A Fantasy Turned Into Madness
by Viet Devil
Summary: Stiles has a problem. Namely that problem is that he has a stalker who manages to slip through the werewolve's senses. He doesn't tell anyone (except Scott) for the sake of pride and hopes it goes away, but everything is never that simple, now is it? A new student transfers in and everything turns upside down for Stiles. He hopes to got he can fix everything.
1. Paranoia, Letters and Fuckin Leprechauns

**Hey Guys! This one was one of the large ones I've been working on for a long time. I already uploaded it on A03, but forgot to upload it here D: Sorry. Whelp, here ya go! I'll upload the next chapter later .**

* * *

"I think I'm being stalked."

Scott turned to his best friend and stared at him confusingly.

"What makes you think you're being stalked?" he asked Stiles as he packed his books up and heads for his next period.

"Well, the fact that I can't shake the feeling of being _watched _every day, gut feeling and I trust my gut."

"Maybe it's just a stomach ache?" He offered as he turns a hall.

"I don't do sickness." Stiles said to him. "You of all people know that."

Scott rolled his eyes. "Maybe you're just over thinking things? Maybe it's just Derek being creepy again."

"Dude, seriously, if I thought it was Derek; I would've gone to him about it. Besides, he stopped doing that after the pack finally formed and things finally settled down here."

Scott sighed. "—Stiles, why are you telling me this? Your dad's the sheriff; he could take care of your problem easier."

Well that was hurtful. "The reason why I asked you was _because_ I didn't want my dad to know. He'll make me stay at home or have an officer be with me all day." Stiles groaned. "I don't want that at all, especially with furry business going on. C'mon, I'm going to the super market today. You can follow me in there and see if it's a threat or not, though seriously, if someone is stalking you it's a threat. What if it's another creature that go bump in the night and perhaps daytime as well?"

"If it were, we would be on it don't you think? I'll help you some other time. I'm sorry, it's just that Allison and I are finally talking normal again and I don't want to ruin another chance with her." Scott smiled at the thought of her. The bell rang through the halls and the students scurried off to class. "We'll talk later, and if it's really bothering you, ask someone from the pack to help!" Scott hollered to him as he runs off down the hall to his class, leaving Stiles alone.

Stiles sighed heavily. Scott was no help at all, especially when it's something about Allison.

Well…maybe he was just overthinking things. Beacon Hills, after all, is somewhat of a small town.

He did tend to blow things out of proportion sometimes (even though it saves their ass more than half of the time) though still, that feeling just wouldn't go away.

He can't go to sleep peacefully either. He couldn't get much sleep at all.

Wait.

Maybe that's the problem. He wasn't getting enough sleep and it was messing with his head. Overthinking things that could pose as a threat was normal since he was now involved in the supernatural aspect of the world.

"Crap!" Stiles snapped out of his thoughts. He was seriously late for class. Stiles cursed as he jogged toward his next class.

As gym came around, they had class outside, where the coach made them do laps the whole period. Scott, as usual, goes with Allison and bonded with her a lot. Stiles was just overall exhausted after jogging the first half of the period and decided to walk the rest, as everyone else. That was when the feeling came back again.

Stiles looked around, trying to spot something wrong, something odd, but didn't see anything. He looked into the forest to see if it actually was Derek being a total creep again, but saw nothing. The forest surrounding was too thick to look into. He shook the feeling off and started to run again.

"Something seems to be on your mind." A voice said to him from behind.

Stiles couldn't help but jump at the sudden approach. He turned around to see Erica smirking.

"God, scared the crap outta me." he dramatically clutched his heart.

"What's up with you Stiles?" she asked. "Seriously, you were freaking out a minute ago."

Stiles shook his head. "It's nothing. Just my over imagination running on low hours of sleep." He shrugged.

Erica raised her eyebrow. She simply shrugged and passed Stiles.

.

.

After school, Stiles headed toward his jeep and quickly drove off to the super market. He needed to get some grocery shopping done, because right now, the sky was very dark looking when it's only about three thirty. Stiles peered up at the sky, seeing dark clouds and spots of daylight piercing through.

Stiles grumbled as he pulled up to the parking lot, having to leave his favorite song that _just _came on the radio. He turned the ignition off and hopped out of the jeep, slamming the door in the process. He headed on in, grabbing a cart along the way. He went aisle through aisle, looking what they needed. Stiles made home meals occasionally, but nothing fancy in his opinion. Between school and the pack and with his father and fulfilling his Sheriff duties, dinner between the two of them were rare.

He thought everything would go alright, until that feeling came back again. This time, he heard a snap.

Stiles snapped his head, in search for the source of where the sound came from.

Dammit, if he had those keen werewolf senses he could find out what it was.

He glanced around until he spotted a preteen girl with her cell phone.

Taking pictures of herself.

"Stiles, you're losing it man." He shook his head and grabbed a loaf of bread before heading toward the dairy section of the market.

By the time he was finished he thanked the lord it hadn't rained quite yet. He dashed for his jeep with the cart, riding it there halfway (he never grew out of that really) and jolting it to a stop when he got to his trunk. He fished out his keys and unlocked the trunk, carefully putting the bags inside.

He started feeling the trickles of water and cussed. "Fuck—rain." He muttered as he shoved the shopping cart into the small area and jogs back toward his car.

He hopped inside his jeep and slammed the door, jamming the key in the ignition and turned it on, quickly flipping the heater on. A flash of yellow from the passenger's seat caught his eye.

It was an envelope.

It wasn't there before.

Stiles looked out his slowly decreased fogged windows for anyone who might have possible put it there but saw nobody. He gazed down to the envelope and picked it up. He carefully felt inside just in case. Nothing bulky, just paper, thick ones by the feel of it. He opened the envelope carefully and pulled the contents out. His heart almost stopped when he saw them. The contents were pictures.

Of _him._

Stiles shockingly went through each photo, all were just creepy. There were pictures of him doing just normal things. Hell, he gave the person props for great ass quality on these, but the creep factor just rose.

There were some taken of him practicing on the lacrosse field during summer with Scott. Stiles was tugging at his shirt, since it was so hot but didn't take his shirt off. A few more from that day with him laughing and another raising his arms in the air in triumph, revealing his happy trail.

He stomach churned as he flipped through some more and found one of him shirtless momentarily in his backyard. There was another of him in his kitchen near the window and another in his room (how the hell did the person even take that photo? He was on the second story), a few when he was shopping some other day and these, holy god, they followed him throughout the entire store and he didn't even know.

There were some close up ones of him when he would be out in the park waiting for Scott to show up and for goodness sakes he was eating a Popsicle. He knew the person was thinking obscene things of this one.

There was another close up of him just walking out of school. He was laughing at something Allison had joked about of Scott and he remembers this moment too because he laughed out so hard about it and the person caught the moment when he had his mouth wide open, another extreme close up of his face, of his watery eyes.

The last photo had a note on top of it.

* * *

"_I hope you liked these as much as I liked taking them. It was hard choosing which one I wanted to show you, I was so nervous. This last one is a personal one of mine; I'm still prepping up for us."_

* * *

He ripped the note off and saw a picture of a large bed. The sheets were dark blue but that was basically it, aside from the nightstand beside the bed.

Stiles shoved all the pictures back into the envelope and chucked it back into the passenger seat like it was on fire.

He shifted into drive and quickly made his way out of the parking lot and back home. He was pretty sure he broke a few speed limits and he managed to not skid of the road when the rain started storming down.

As he drove up into his driveway, he threw it in park and quickly brought all the stuff in before it got soaked. He sets his backpack down on the floor and the bags on the kitchen before he zoomed to each room with a fucking window and closed the curtains.

Jesus Christ his heart is beating so fast. After Stiles is sure he closed all the windows he slunked down in the middle of the dark hallway and tried to not go into a panic attack, but sitting down here isn't going to help.

Stiles got up and walked toward the kitchen to put all the stuff up, tries to get his mind off topic. He threw away some expired things in the trash before setting all the new stuff in. He leaves some ingredients out so he can whip up some dinner for his dad.

Then he remembered that he won't be home at all tonight so there was no point.

Though he could go by and drop some off at the office. That honestly sounded like a good idea.

.

.

He ended up making about a three batches of cookies after he made the chicken salad for his dad.

Stiles winced at the sight of the mess in the kitchen and the mass of cookies but hey, his panic attack went away.

"That's going to be a pain in the ass to clean later." Stiles sighed and shrugged. He packed the things, leaving a batch of cookies at home, in some containers and turns off the light and headed for the door. He thanked the lord it was only sprinkling now and it was about ten thirty. Not too late so he won't be in too much trouble.

He practically sped into the station. Stiles parked the jeep half hazardously when he reached the station and hopped out, things in hand. He smiled at the lady in the front desk when he came through the doors.

"Hey Mel, is my dad here? I made him some food—" He shook the containers. "—and I kinda got out of hand and made a lot of cookies to distract myself and well…" he showed the other containers full of cookies. "—thought I should bring some over for everyone else here." he shook the other containers full of cookies. The woman smiled.

"Your father is being drowned in some paperwork in the back." She pointed in the direction of his office. "You can head on back. I'm sure you know where to put the cookies for them to devour." She chuckles. Stiles handed her a couple before heading towards the back.

Since everyone knew him, he promptly yelled "made some cookies!" and left them on the table in the break room. He snuck a few out for his dad before heading toward his office.

"Hey Dad, made you some food." He said as soon as he walked in.

"Stiles it's almost eleven." He glanced at the clock. "Anything on your mind that's keeping you up so late?" he said as he quickly jotted something down and set his pen down, directing his attention toward Stiles.

"Nah, just stressed out this week. Needed to keep my mind off and focus." He shrugged his shoulders. Stiles saw a rush of officers head down towards the break room. "We'll that took them long enough." He laughed.

"You made them something too?" he leans back in his chair as he opens his container and sees the cookies. He groaned. "Ah, now I know something is going on, the only times you make a mass of cookies enough for every hungry officer here is when you were trying to get out of your panic attacks. I still remember a few months ago when you made the mass of brownies, which by the way Ms. Julie from down the street asked if you could make her some, I told her yes."

"Oh, that's fine I'll get to it, might as well make use of the mess in the kitchen before cleaning it."

"You're not going to dodge this, what's going on?" he stared at Stiles.

"Ah—nothing, it's nothing, just paranoid lately, that's all. My friends are probably playing a prank on me."

"_Like_?"

"Dad, seriously its nothing." He chuckled, hoping to throw him off. "I'm pretty sure it's Scott; I laughed at him so hard from one of Allison's embarrassing stories." He hopped up from the chair. "I gotta head home though, it's still raining and I have a mess to clean up." he smiled at him reassuringly. "See ya Dad, be careful out there!" he headed on out.

"Well alright then. You be careful out there too alright?

"I will!" he said to him before heading outside.

.

.

As soon as he got home, he groaned, remembering the huge mess he has to clean up. He stepped into his house and locked the door, shrugging his shoes off before heading into the kitchen. When he flipped the light, the sight made his heart race again, the beats thundering in his ears as blood rushed quickly.

The entire kitchen was spotless, hell, even cleaner than before he started the mess. Stiles noticed another envelope lying on the kitchen table. He was almost too nervous to walk over there and open it. When it slipped into his hands, he opened it carefully and there were a few more photos this time, and he recognized the outfits he wore in them.

They were from today. Some in his jeep as he flipped through the first packet of photos, his expressions were caught perfectly. There was one picture with a heart drawn around his head of him when he was astonished by the quality of the photos. He felt another note attached to the back of this one and flipped it over.

* * *

_"My, what a lovely expression just by my photos, beautiful aren't they? I cleaned the kitchen up for you so you won't have to bother dealing with it. I can't wait when everything is ready."_

* * *

"Fuck!" he shoved the contents back in the envelope and stormed upstairs and slammed the door of his room when he entered. He saw his backpack lying on his bed, where he most definitely did not leave there. He started to shake when he saw another envelope on top of it.

When he opened it, there was only a note in there. He pulled it out and read it.

* * *

_"Don't leave your things lying around, you might fall and get hurt. I really don't want that. Please take care."_

* * *

Stiles ended up staying awake the entire night.

.

.

Stiles took a few extra of his meds to keep him awake, although it's really not recommended. He headed for the shower and tried to keep his mind off of things; he started to hum to some music from his phone via Pandora.

He ran the cold water on momentarily for a bit so he could shock his body awake, it did the trick too.

After he's done getting ready, he carefully headed downstairs and toward the kitchen, spotting his dad getting home just now.

"Hey, Dad." He said.

"So much paperwork to do, I'm beat." He huffed out. He took a look around the kitchen. "Wow, I think it's cleaner than before." He whistled as he looked around again.

"Uh…yeah…I was into the cleaning moment likewise with the cookies, which are by the way…" he glanced around and doesn't remember where they are. He remembered setting them on the table befor—oooh. Whoever it was must have taken them.

"In the fridge?" he heard his dad say. He snapped his attention and saw him standing in front of the fridge. "Are you sure you're alright?" he said.

"Dad, seriously, I'm fine."

"Because you left your papers in here."

"Wait, what?" he walked over to him. He saw his dad take out the envelope that he was sure not his. How many of these envelopes were hidden in the house? "_Oh_, that." He grabbed it out of his hands. "If I forgot these I would seriously flunk English." He backed up and reached his backpack. "I gotta go, see ya dad!" he rushed out of the house, ignoring his father's call.

When he drove up to the school parking lot, he noticed that he has some time left before the first bell rang. He sat in his jeep and stared at the envelope currently sitting in his lap.

"God dammit." He muttered as he opened the envelope and pulled a note out.

* * *

_"Good morning. Hope you don't eat the cookies; it's bad for your health so early in the morning. Have a nice day."_

* * *

"Have a nice day my ass." He growled out before shoving it back in there and tossed it in the back seat. He hopped out of the jeep and headed toward a long day of class.

During school, things were relatively normal. He was glad for that because it balanced out the whole creepy stalkerness he was having and the normalness from school and most of all, his friends, it calmed him a bit.

Throughout school, Stiles had realized that the photo stalking issue was not only a problem for them, but for the pack too.

If this person had taken pictures of Stiles without him or the pack knowing, then the possibility of the pack's secret might be let out.

He couldn't risk that, and have that guilt hanging over his head.

No way.

Stiles knew he had to stay away from the pack until he gets the whole stalker issue dealt with, though that also raised another question he hadn't thought of.

How on earth was he going to get rid of the stalker?

Stiles bit his lip in frustration, leg constantly bounced up and down. He looked down at his paper, staring at the equation problems that were easy to answer.

"Low and behold, Mr. Stilinski is finally putting more effort into class." Mr. Harris' voice startled him. He jumped a bit and saw him standing right next to him. "Careful, I don't want you to injure yourself from thinking too hard." He smirked and walked off. "That does sound delightful though, doesn't it?"

.

.

"Stiles!" he heard Scott call out to him. Stiles turned and saw Scott coming toward him. "Pack meeting after school—"

"—uh, I…can't. I'm too busy with homework and other shit." Stiles said. He honestly was though, trying to see if he could lift anything out of the photos and then going through the police records for any past stalkers that have been reported and see if there was evidence, a note, so he could compare everything from photography style to hand writing and it's just going to take a while.

"You…sure?"

"Uh—yea, yea."

And for the next few weeks, Stiles stops attending nearly all of the pack meetings.

.

.

.

Of course by normal the supernatural part of it naturally came as well. After about two weeks of no more creepy stalker pictures, Beacon Hills had another supernatural mishap.

The _one_ time he goes to a pack meeting, shit started to happen.

That is—Leprechauns_. Fucking leprechauns._

Stiles didn't have to even research for these little fuckers but apparently someone had messed with their treasure and they were intent on raising the ever living hell to get it back, even though they had no complete idea on where to start hell, but it seemed that just whoever would be in the forest will be their prey.

There was more than one, which threw Stiles off. He read that each of these things was a guardian of a treasure. If a whole group of them meant that someone had stolen a shit ton of treasure from them and _none_ of them had noticed or mauling each other if someone else in their little group had gotten to their treasure and betrayed or whatever, he assumed that they were protecting one treasure. Probably related or something.

His assumptions were right when one of them over heard Stiles talking about it to Scott when they were on their way to meet up with the others in the pack at Derek's remodeled house, it assumed that he took it and started to attack Stiles.

There was a lot of flailing as Stiles took off when Scott told him to run to the house when a couple more popped up. A few more ran after him and he was sure to have made the track team coach proud of sprinting off faster than he ever had. Of course, since he was Stiles in all, he paid no attention and fell into a stream.

Stiles remembered that didn't kill _all_ of their prey, only enough severe damage and when they deemed that the person had no knowledge of stealing their treasure, they would conjure up some spell and manipulate it so they though they got attacked by some wild animal with sharp claws.

Oh yea, they had sharp claws. _Very_ sharp claws. It went well with their wart faced features and the sharp teeth. Paired with a sharp nose and eyes that slanted upwards, these things were terrifying when pissed off. Complete with the fact that they were short, it made everything more terrifying. Stiles was sure even Jackson and Boyd were scared of these things.

So since they truly thought that Stiles was the one who took it, he was pretty sure they were going to shred him apart.

Luckily the pack came just in time when the leprechauns had started to claw at Stiles leg when he was climbing up the trench and out of the stream of water and Erica had yanked him out from there.

The pack, finally having a few of them separated (he noticed Isaac and Jackson gone, probably to help Scott) they were able to kill off the bastards.

Stiles was wet and muddy and he was sure that was blood trickling down his leg.

"Fucking leprechauns." Stiles grumbled as he started to get up. His leg was stinging like a bitch but he ignored it. Stiles glanced down to take a look at his leg to see his jeans ripped up and that was no trickling, nope, that was streaming. Stiles whined at the sight of one of his favorite pairs of jeans, tattered. He was losing a lot of clothes and dammit one of these days he was making the pack buy him a whole new wardrobe.

"Quit whining." Erica said. She came up to him, bloodied after her kill. "It looks f—" she took one look at his leg and her eyes widened a bit before going back to normal. "—ine. Just some scratches. Doesn't look too deep." She shrugged at him.

"Are they all dead now?"

"Yup. Scott and the others are on their way here too. Lydia and Danny are in the house on guard. C'mon, let's get you patched up…" Erica came around him.

"I can do that when I get home." Stiles said. "I'm seriously feeling real gross and covered in sweat and blood and mud."

"Erica, you alrig—_whoa_." Boyd paused when he glanced at Stiles' leg and it seriously does not look like a normal scratch.

Stiles raised an eyebrow at him. "What are you—"

Erica stopped him from looking closer at his leg. "C'mon Batman, let's go to Deaton's so that won't get infected." She grinned. "Let's go."

"Erica, you're seriously kinda freaking me out here." Stiles said to her.

"Can I not care for you without it being creepy?" she mock pouted.

"No."

She shrugged and started dragging him towards the house, where the cars were. She glanced behind her at Boyd and made a face that told him to _shut the hell up and don't freak him out._ Because she knows that Stiles would go into shock and have a panic attack at the sight of his leg.

"Erica, where are you going?" Derek called her. "Go and get rid of the bodies with Scott and Isaac."

"Why do I have to do it?" she growled. "I did it last time."

Derek just glared at her. "I'll take care of him. Go."

She sighed and let him go and headed on to look for the others.

Derek glanced at Stiles from head to toe, which made him real uncomfortable.

"Seriously, can I go home and clean up?" Stiles flailed. "I feel like crap right now and my leg is starting to throb."

"I can see that." Derek said. He walked up to Stiles and picked him up into his arms, careful of his leg.

"Du—let go!"

"This is faster."

"Your house isn't that far away I can make it myself." He squirmed around. "My leg doesn't hurt that bad." He tried to convince Derek. It seriously doesn't, just a bit throbbing but doesn't hurt that much.

"How bad does it hurt right now?" he simply asked Stiles.

Stiles sighed. "Like a four right now."

"If you saw your leg, it would go past ten in two seconds, which by the way, don't look at It." he glared at Stiles, who only pressed his lips firmly together and slumped down into Derek's arms, not protesting.

"I'll just…be quiet then…" because he was so not taking any chances on if that was true or not. He felt Derek picking up the pace and started feeling woozy. "Dude, slow down, making me feel nauseous." And that only made him go faster.

He didn't notice that they were at the Camaro and Derek was placing Stiles in the passenger seat.

"Close your eyes."

"Wha—why? Does it look that bad?"

"Yes. Now don't. Look." Stiles heard him close the door and then heard him open the driver's side.

The trip to Deaton's happened in a blur and Stiles was seriously getting very sleepy.

Apparently his leg was so bad that he needed several stitches, but when the vet said he was fine, Stiles happily took that as a sign that he could go to sleep.

Well…more like pass out.

.

.

His leg didn't bother him that much. After a few weeks and another trip to Deaton's to remove the stitches, it looked perfectly fine, aside from the faint scar it left but with his leg hair growing, it won't be noticed.

The limp he has is only temporary. Just as along as he waits until it fully heals and he slowly builds up the strength back in it, it would be fine.

Driving was difficult. Some of the pack had offered him rides, but he said he was fine. Seriously, it hurts, but he can deal with driving. He told them it was a form of physical therapy for him and they dropped it.

Though, just to calm some of the pack's nerves, they ride along with him just in case. He was startled when Erica jumped into the passenger side and then tried not to freak out when he glanced at the orange packet at her feet.

He had forgotten to put those up.

Actually, he had totally forgotten about that stalker issue. He didn't receive any more for nearly a month now. He assumed it was a prank until the leprechaun thing popped up, or one of the leprechauns had hopefully scared him off…or _ate_ him.

He was on board with the latter.

Stiles played it cool until he dropped Erica off at her house, waving at her mother and drove off. As soon as he got home, he gathered all the envelopes and stuck them in the bed base in his room. There was a small crack he could shove them in and nobody could find it. Stiles put his mattress down and fixed his bed so it wouldn't look suspicious.

Stiles really didn't know what to do with those photos. If he threw them away, someone else might find them. He could burn them, but Beacon hills was put on a no fire law until further notice and his father would notice if something was set on fire and question him, or interrogate him until he got the answer from Stiles as to what the hell he set on fire.

Derek visited him every now and then, asking how the boy was doing. Stiles at first was annoyed by it, but it soon became routine and then something he always look forward to.

He would knock on the window when Stiles was in his room and come inside. Derek would ask about Stiles' day, then go on and look at his leg just to reassure himself that Stiles was alright. Stiles just talked on and tried to distract Derek on another subject, but the man didn't mind. He actually listened to Stiles' long babble of distraction.

The thing that Stiles enjoyed was the slight smile and relaxed composure of Derek's body. The soft huff of laughter that would slip through Derek's lips when Stiles talked about a story or a joke.

Stiles remembered that one time when Derek came over and he kept eyeing the food on his plate. Stiles just rolled his eyes and told Derek to follow him as he went downstairs. Stiles laughed as he watched Derek devour a huge plate Stiles scooped for Derek.

Or that one time when Stiles was reading a comic on his bed and Derek just came in and flopped on the bed, half on top of Stiles and just flat out passed out. Stiles couldn't move his arms and so he just flung the comic off to the side and tried to squirm his way out.

Though after seeing the stressed out look on Derek's face, he just sighed and shut his eyes, falling asleep next to Derek.

He loved these moments.

Then again, something always messed this up.

.

.

Something was odd. Beacon Hills High has a new student that just transferred in and he was in nearly _all_ of Stiles classes. Why did this seem odd? Because out of all the possibilities of his class makeup for his schedule, it had to almost coordinate with Stiles'. He had a locker across from him; he was his new science partner _and_ sat near at a table near him and the pack. The pack didn't seem to pay attention to him, so it really must be his imagination running its long course.

Stiles also noticed how Danny seemed to have fallen for the guy. Well, who wouldn't? The creepy guy had some serious piercing brown eyes, lashes like the devil, dark hair that just taunted everyone's hands to run through them. He always styles his in a quiff, and six feet five inches tall? He's gorgeous.

But here's the thing. To everyone, he's this handsome transfer student, but to Stiles' he's just really creepy and got into people's personal space (I.e. his personal space more often than others). Danny didn't seem to mind the closeness, but he probably doesn't feel the bad vibe Stiles has.

Stiles noticed the way he tried to get close to him. He noticed the way he's being looked at, and the way he just oh so casually touched Stiles like it's normal. The werewolves look at him funny when they heard his heart escalate whenever he's near Garret, aka creeper. They were convinced that Stiles had a crush on him, but no, he doesn't. They didn't sense the fear off of him, because really he had none since he had gotten use to Derek.

Stiles thanked the lord he came too late for Lacrosse.

.

.

"Hey Stiles?" he turned to see Danny come up to him in the hall after school.

"Sup Danny?" Stiles smiles at him.

"Can I ask you something…personal?" he seemed reluctant.

Well now. "Uh, sure? What is it?"

Danny sighed. "Do…you like Garret?" he blushes. Stiles froze for a moment.

"What?"

"Do you. Like. Garret." He repeated as if he was ashamed to say it.

Oh. _Oh. _Now he understood what Danny was trying to ask him.

"He's all yours Danny. Take him, you know what? Take _all_ of him. Away. He can be your locker buddy." Danny raised an eyebrow.

"I don't like him Danny." Stiles laughed. "Not even close."

"Really, I mean—"

"He creeps me out Danny. I want to be as far from the person as possible. Every time he comes near me or touches me I want to peel my skin off. It's not that he's a guy or anything, it's just….he gives off this bad vibe." He waved his hands in the air around his head. "I don't like it."

"Are you sure you're just not—"

"—overreacting? Probably. I mean, the pack hasn't sensed anything dangerous at all from him so it just might be a personal issue for me." he looked at Danny and he seemed caught between anger (at Stiles for thinking that way of Garret) and concern (for his wellbeing), if that were possible—oh wait. Derek. Hah.

"Look, I'm sure it's just a personal issue for me. He seemed like a great guy, but the close gesture is what probably concerned me. I'm not interested in him." he closed his locker and patted Danny on the shoulder. "Go and get him Danny boy." He grinned and walked out of the school.

.

.

He really hated Harris with _passion_. He _knew_ how uncomfortable Stiles was with Garret and he just seemed to enjoy Stiles' pain. Harris assigned a project that has to be due in two days and Stiles knew either one or the other has to go to their house to complete the assignment.

"So, whose house we going to?" Stiles shivered as he heard Garret practically breathe into his ear.

"Uh, maybe mine?" _just in case you decide to do something creepy I can hurt you with all twelve of my hidden weapons. _"It's a lot closer." Garret grinned and nodded his head.

Stiles lead the way to his house, Garret in his large black ford truck with dark tint out windows. He hated the fact that Garret now knows where Stiles lives, but he wasn't taking the chance of going to his house. No way. Nope.

Stiles parked the jeep in the drive way, Garret parking on the side of the road. They both hop out and head on inside, greeting his dad along the way.

"Ah—wait, Stiles!" the sheriff called him. Stiles stopped midway the stairs and goes back, stopping in front of the kitchen.

"Yea?"

"I'm going to have a few guys over, you won't mind doing your project at your friends place, do you?" he asked Stiles.

_I hate you, I hate you, I hate you._ "Uh, sure…I don't mind." Stiles said reluctantly. "Don't mind at all."

His dad grinned. "Great, give me a heads up if you're going to stay over at his, alright?" he pecked a kiss on his forehead.

"It was nice meeting you, Sheriff." Garret waved and smiled at him.

"Nice meeting you too, I'm sorry for doing this by the way." He shook Garret's hand.

"Not a problem. Stiles, I can drive you back when we're finished, that way you won't have to drive back."

_Fuck you, hell no._ "That's okay, I can drive there."

"Uh, Stiles….about that. I need to borrow your jeep." His dad bashfully asked.

"What? Wait—what happened to your cruiser?"

"Some asshole slashed the tires and messed up the engine. It's at the shop."

_Fuck everyone._ He handed the keys to his dad and left the house after saying bye.

.

.

It was pretty quiet ride to Garret's house. What makes Stiles nervous is that his house apparently is on the _other_ side of the preserve. The other side of Derek's property.

Basically _away_ from the pack.

Stiles tried to convince himself that he was overreacting. The pack didn't sense anything strange about him, Danny liked him so it really must be a personal issues of his that he needed to figure out what it exactly was…first. It was just all in his head. He needed to catch up on his sleep and the pain killers for his leg was probably causing him to go a bit crazy.

Yeah.

Totally that.

"So…you live all the way out here?" he casually asked. He heard a light snort.

"I wouldn't be driving here for nothing now would I?" he chuckled. "It's nice and peaceful. I can take a walk in the woods and be at peace. I see a lot of beautiful things out here." he smiles.

See? Nothing to be creeped out about. He's a nature kind of person. Not a serial killer. Silly Stiles.

Stiles finally sees the house, which is actually a cottage. A nice one, though nothing compared to a huge house like Derek's.

"You live in a cottage?"

"It belonged to my Aunt. She gave it to our family after she passed away." Stiles noticed that there was no other car or light inside the cottage.

"Garret…do you live alone?" he looked at him. Garret parked the truck and turned to look at him.

"Yea. My parents are business people and they travel a lot. I'm old enough to live on my own."

"You're older than eighteen?"

"I'm nineteen." He threw Stiles a hurtful glare. "I'm not that old. This one teacher didn't like me too well and tried to make my school life a living hell. I honestly didn't know what I did to make him hate me so much. He was the reason why I flunked and had to transfer."

"Can they even do that? Seriously, that's how Harris is to me. I make an A in there; I honestly don't know why he hates me!" Stiles flailed and bumped his hand on the window. He hissed in pain and heard Garret laugh.

"Come on, let's go in before your manage to crack my windows." He grabbed his stuff from the back seat and hopped out of the truck.

Stiles hopped out of the truck and slammed the door. He looked around the area and noticed that the area was a bit thicker than over at Derek's property. There were more leaves and the grass was lusher and it makes Stiles want to roll around and sleep on it.

"I've done that before." Garret stopped by Stiles.

"I said that out loud didn't I?"

"You did and honestly, it's really comfortable to sleep on, though I don't do it as often now."

"Why's that?" Stiles asked as they both head towards the cottage.

"I fell asleep on a nest of fire ants." Stiles winced.

"_Ouch_."

"Yea, not a good idea to just fall asleep some place randomly." Garret opened his door and stepped inside, flipping on a light switch.

The inside of the cottage was pretty normal. It has that homey feeling to it.

"Welcome to my home, make yourself at home, mi casa es tu casa." Garret lightly tossed his things on the couch and heads toward a room. "You want to eat something before we get started? I can barely concentrate at all when I'm starving."

Stiles threw his things on the couch next to Garret's and follows him. "Dude, I'm star—whoa." Stiles stopped at the kitchen entrance and gazed at Garret.

Who was now shirtless and holy hell look at those abs.

There were on par with Derek's.

Holy shit he just wants to—wait. Why did his mind suddenly move Garret from creeper alert to hottie hot smoking hot alarm?

He heard Garret giggle, like fucking giggle.

"Hottie hot smoking hot alarm?"

Stiles flushed. "Uh—wow, sorry—"

"It's fine, it's fine. I usually give off that creeper vibe a lot. I'm the type of person that likes close contact."

Oh…he said that part too. Now he felt a bit bad.

"I'm really sorry 'bout…that. I haven't been sleeping much lately and the pain killers aren't really helping."

"Pain killers?" Garret asked, concerned laced in his voice. "You know that taking Pain killers with your Adderall isn't recommended right?"

"...how did you know I was on Adderall?"

"Danny mentioned it. What kind of pain killers did you take?"

"Hydrocodeine, why?"

"Hydrocodeine usually daps the Adderall out." He sighed. "The pharmacist should've mentioned it before giving them to you—actually; they should've prescribed you something else."

Huh. So maybe that was why he couldn't concentrate as much. "Thanks, I'll call the doctor tomorrow and ask them for something else."

"No problem. Anyways, food?" he grins at Stiles.

Stiles looked at him. "Wait—you cook?"

"Is that a problem…?"

"No, no! Just, not many guys in high school I know cook themselves." He smiled at Garret. "Need a hand?"

.

.

Garret and Stiles made some Alfredo chicken and some salad. Stiles had actually relaxed at last. After they ate and cleaned up, they moved into the living room and got to working on the project. They were supposed to research on some topic that involved with the week's lesson, which was ironically on the make-up of medications and its interactions.

So, with a test subject already at hand, i.e. Stiles, they researched it fairly quickly. It was pretty interesting, and Stiles now knows a few new tricks up his sleeve to help the pack.

They were about half way done with the paper, it was around one in the morning and Stiles' eye lids were getting incredibly heavy. It didn't take him very long to fall asleep.

Stiles woke up to birds chirping, which were pleasant hear by the way. He felt arms around his waist rather tightly. Stiles opened his eyes and notices he was still in Garret's living room.

_Wait_.

Birds chirping.

That meant morning.

Yesterday was Thursday night, so today was—

"Holy shit! Garret! Garret, dude, wake up!" Stiles shook the arms around him, trying to wake him up. He heard Garret's snore startle and slurred sentences spill out. "Dude! Friday! School!" he tried to squirm out of his grip. Stiles reached for his phone on the ground and checked the time.

**7:50 a.m.**

"GARRET, LATE, WE ARE LATE, COME ON!" holy goddamn, this person will not budge. "You're going to flunk again!" he shouted.

Garret jerked awake. "Whaat?" he slurred out. He rubbed his eyes, flicking the crust out.

"Dude, we fell asleep. Friday, school! Late! Come on!" Stiles gets up as soon as Garret's grip loosened. He gathered his stuff and shoved it into his backpack. "Come on big guy, we need to go." He dragged Garret by the arm, who slowly got up and shoved his things into his backpack, yawning the entire time.

Stiles whined. "Dude, you're so slow." he glanced at the time.

**7:55 a.m.**

"We have five minutes until we're late." He announced.

Garret snapped his head at Stiles. "What?! Five?!" he glanced at the time on his cell phone. "Oh shit, come on!" Stiles dashed out the door, Garret behind him and locking the door.

.

.

Garret sped the entire way there, breaking several speed limits and stops signs and Stiles thanked the lord that nobody saw or got hurt. Garret pulled up into the parking lot of the high school and parks hazardously. They both got out and ran toward class, which they had together.

"Three minutes late boys, I hope you have a good explanation." Mrs. Hodges asked the boys when they got into her class room. She looked up from her roster and froze. The class seemed to take notice of this and turned around, looking at Stiles and Garret as they stroll on in.

Stiles opened his mouth and tried to explain to her about late night project due soon. She waved a hand. "In fact, never mind. I don't want to know. Take your seats." She sighed as she took attendance.

As Stiles sat down, Scott turned around, giving him a weird look. Stiles mouthed '_what'_ and he just shook his head as he reached into his phone and began swiping a text, most likely to him.

His phone buzzed and Stiles slid it out and checked it.

**Scott: dud l8? N wats up w/ ur clthes.**

Stiles deciphered the text and checked his clothes. He wanted to slam his head on the desk so hard.

They were the same clothes he worn to school yesterday, as well as Garret.

**Stiles: Tell you later.**

He sent the text before shoving his phone back and started taking notes.

.

.

"Dude, what's up?" Scott approached him in the hallway at his locker. "You told me you'd explain."

"I was studying at Garrets and we fell asleep late. Woke up late and sped all the way here." Stiles said, not bothering to look at Scott.

"I thought you said you didn't like him?" Scott eyed him. "You told Danny he gave you the creeps."

"Well, yea but since I had to go to his house and do the stupid project, I got to know him." Stiles shrugged. "He told me the painkillers I took were killing out the Adderall and I think that's what was making me overreact a lot."

"So…you and him are alright now?"

"Guess so. He's not that bad."

.

.

It was during lunch that Jackson dumped his tray all over Stiles. Stiles jumped up in shock and disgust. Everyone turned to look at the sudden noise.

"Dude, what the hell!" Stiles said.

"Just dumping my tray in the trash." Jackson's smile made Stiles want to punch him.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Jackson's expression turned serious.

"You lied to Danny and hurt him." Jackson crossed his arms.

_"What?"_

"This morning? Also, Scott may be an idiot, but I'm not. I can smell him all over you." Jackson whispered to him as he shoves Stiles back and leaves the cafeteria. Lydia glances at him for a quick second before flipping her hair and leaves after Jackson.

"Whoa, dude!" a person shouted when he walked through the doors before he started laughing at Stiles. It started a chain of laughter and Stiles just high tails out of there.

Stiles went to the locker room, which were deserted at this time since it was mostly occupied during lacrosse or gym. He headed toward the shower and stripped his clothes off, tossing them aside. He turned the shower on and soaked in the warm water, running his hands through his hair to get the gunks of food out.

Stiles never felt so humiliated.

Stiles didn't have the courage to even go to class right then, so he decided to just walk on home.

In the rain.

The pouring rain.

Stiles wore his lacrosse uniform and had his clothes bunched up in his arms. He was walking home just fine until there was a flash of pain in his leg that made him jerk to a stop. Stiles glanced down to see nothing wrong with his leg and he assumes he must've strained and pulled a muscle when he ran all the way to the locker room.

Stiles groaned out loud and limped his way home.

He was glad that his dad wasn't home or else he had to explain to him why he walked all the way home in the storm in his lacrosse outfit.

Stiles was soaked to the bone and he was sure he would catch a fever if he didn't warm up sooner. Stiles awkwardly got up the stairs and into the shower, stripping the clothes off and dumping them in the hamper. He soaked in the hot water until his fingers started getting pruney.

Stiles limped to his room half naked and yanked some pajamas out of his dresser, quickly putting them on. He then lay in his bed and let out a collective sigh. He glanced at his alarm, seeing that it was about two.

Well, this wasn't how Stiles thought was going to happen.

.

.

Stiles woke up to someone trying to kill his door bell. It was being pressed repeatedly and Stiles wonders how long he slept through that. He pushed himself up from his bed and slowly got down the stairs from his bedroom and opens the door.

Garret was standing there.

"Garret?" Stiles asked.

"I didn't see you in classes at all and I heard what happened." His face seemed sad. "Are you…alright?"

"Oh….yeah I'm just fine. I didn't feel like class today and I don't know your number so I couldn't text you."

"You could've came to me, I mean, I wouldn't mind taking you home. I feel guilty that you had to walk back home in the storm."

"Hey, it's not your fault." Stiles tried to assure him. "Come in, we can both warm up in the house." Stiles said, shivering from the draft. Garret thanked him and walked in, taking off his wet shoes and shrugging off his jacket.

"Mi casa es tu casa." Stiles said, then started to laugh because Garret had said that earlier. "You want something to drink? Coffee, tea, hot chocolate…I just stocked up the other day."

"Tea would be nice." Garret answered him.

.

.

"I honestly don't see how people can mistake it like that." Garret said as he sipped his tea. Stiles shrugged.

"I mean, if you see it from another perspective—"

"—I still don't see how though. We only fell asleep doing homework. We woke up late and came to school in the same clothes as last night; everyone should know or get it with the project Harris assigned everyone."

"Oh how I would love for everyone to think that way Garret." Stiles puffed out. Garret shook his head.

"I just don't see why everyone always assume sex in the end just because of that this morning." Stiles raised an eyebrow. Garret sighed out.

"I'm asexual, Stiles." He admitted. Stiles choked on his tea.

"I'm sorry, what?" Garret seemed to flinch at that.

"I'm asexual. You know, I don't feel sexual attraction to anyone…?" Then, it clicked all together for Stiles.

"—which is why you seemed comfortable being so close to everyone." Stiles said. Garret nodded. "Augh, dude, why haven't you told anyone?"

"My last school knew and they treated me differently once they found out. They would either outcast me as weird or I became some competition for the girls to see if they can succeed in making me horny for them." Garret's face scrunched up.

"Dude…that's just not right." Garret shrugged.

"Some of the people gave me a hard time for it."

"Like the teacher that flunked you."

"Yup."

Stiles sighed out. "Jesus, I'm really sorry if I acted like such an asshole."

"It's fine." Garret shook his head. "You know now."

"Want me to keep my mouth shut?" Garret laughed.

"It's fine. This high school seemed to be more open to different students. My old school didn't take in different orientation students very well. Race is acceptable to a point. Sexually, they're against it. So LGBTQ students won't be treated as nice."

"Everybody loves Danny. You know he…ya know."

"I do. He seems really awesome, but I can never fully satisfy him."

"—whoa, whoa. Danny isn't like that."

"I know that, but in any relationship I try to be in they've been so disappointed when it came down to it. They said I feel heartless when I had sex with them, because I wasn't _'into the moment'_" he air quoted. "I mean, I do it to try and make them happy, but it always ends up completely the opposite."

Stiles groaned out. "Everything was a complete misunderstanding." Garret laughed.

"But we're both okay now, right?" he asked.

"Yes, yes, totally." Stiles said. Garret grinned widely.

"Good."

.

The two moved onto doing what was left of their projects and essentially finished it in about three hours. Stiles at the moment felt as completely fine as the turn of events today was out of thought. After they had finished early, Stiles offered to make some dinner, as thanks for him making dinner for Stiles the other night.

Stiles decided to make some chicken stir fry. Garret had offered to help, which Stiles gladly took. He chopped up the vegetables as Stiles took some left-over chicken from the deli and started ripping them a bit.

"Noodles or Rice?"

"Hmm, how about noodles?"

"Hope you're fine with ramen noodles." Stiles said. Garret laughed.

"Perfectly fine…"

Stiles and Garret bonded more as they prepped dinner and Stiles really didn't know why he over reacted so much before.

They were laughing at a story Stiles told until his leg had started to pulsate in pain. The pain hurt so much that it made him physically flinch and the plate he was holding fell and shattered.

Garret turned to see Stiles' face in pain as he leaned on the counter, his leg lifted up so he wouldn't put any weight on it.

"Stiles?" he asked immediately after the plate shattered.

"I'm fine. I pulled a muscle and kinda…limped all the way home."

"What?" he asked shocked. "Are you stupid?" he set his plate on the counter and went over to Stiles, picking him up from the ground.

"Hey—whoa!"

"Why didn't you say anything earlier? You can really have a serious injury if you don't take proper care." He walked over to the living room and sat Stiles down onto the couch.

"It's fine, I really haven't put that much weight on it and it doesn't hurt as much."

"Then tell me why did you drop the plate?"

"Uhh…"

"Yea, thought so. What did you do to your leg?" he asked as he saw the scars on his leg from his leprechaun mishap.

"Cat's really don't like me too much."

"Enough to get you stitches and the pain killers?" he asked incredulously.

"I bruise easily." He says. "So I scar easily? It was a serious rabid cat." He told him.

Garret shook his head as he got up.

"Where are you going?"

"To clean up the plate and get you and I some food."

"Whoa—I can do that, seriously, it doesn't hurt that bad." Stiles tried to get off up the couch but Garret just rested his hand on his chest and pushed him lightly down.

"Rest, Stiles. I don't mind, I still feel guilty about what happened at lunch earlier and your leg." he looked at Stiles. "Are you pouting?"

"I am not." Stiles told him. Garret laughed.

"Sit there, I'll be right back."

It didn't take Garret too clean up long. He was back in about seven minutes with two plates of food and two bottles of water from his fridge.

They both ate the food, commenting as the watched TV. Garret noticed that Stiles kept wincing in pain every time he shifted his position.

"You sure you don't want some pain killers for your leg?"

"…I totally forgot to call the docs today about my meds."

"You have anything else?"

"Uh, just over the counter stuff. Do you mind getting some? It's in the medicine cabinet behind the mirror in the bathroom. First door on your right up stairs."

Garret nodded as he headed upstairs in the direction Stiles said and entered the bathroom. He flipped on the light switch and opened the medicine cabinet. He eyed two boxes and grabbed the maximum strength, taking two pills. Garret closes the cabinet and turned the light out, heading back downstairs. He handed Stiles the pills and watched him swallow them before sitting back down.

Stiles started feeling woozy a few minutes later. He tried to keep his eyes open, but had a hard time in doing so.

"Duude, did you g't the max ones?" he started to slur. "Th'se knock me o't." Stiles flopped back onto the couch, passed out.

"Good night Stiles." Garret simply said. He watched the boy completely passed out, snoring. He grinned.

* * *

**~As always, leave your precious reviews! :) ~**


	2. Fairies, Sickness, His Last Note

.

"Stiles." someone said, shaking Stiles. "Stiles!" Stiles snapped his eyes open and saw his dad looking at him, worried. "Son, why are you sleeping on the couch?"

"Whu—what time is it?" Stiles asked as he stretched and got up from the couch.

"It's four in the morning."

"Whoa—wait." Stiles turned to the other couch and saw nobody there. "Where's Garret?" his dad held up a note.

"He left a note saying you passed out from the pain killers. He said he's sorry for giving you the wrong kind and he went home when it started to get late." The sheriff looked at Stiles. "Are you alright?" he reached over to feel Stiles' forehead with the back of his hand. "You feel a bit warm. Are you getting sick?"

"Dad, I'm fine. It's nothing." He lightly pushed the hand away as he got up. Stiles stood and saw the room woozy. He held his balance and dragged himself up the stairs. "I'm go'n back to b'd." he slurred out. He yawned. "Night Dad."

"Alright…night bud." he said as he stared at Stiles until he disappeared upstairs.

.

.

Stiles woke up around eleven in the morning. His head felt a bit muggy and his leg still ached. He let out a pitiful groan as he pushed himself up from his bed and sat up. He felt nauseous and saw the room spin a bit. Stiles shut his eyes and tried to calm the queasiness away.

"Fuck, I hope it's not what I think it is." he muttered to himself as he got up and headed towards the bathroom. He opened his medicine cabinet and took the thermometer out and stuck it under his tongue. He trudged downstairs to the kitchen and started boiling him a pot of water. He went over to the cabinet and grabbed a box of therea flu and grabbed a packet out, ripping it and pouring it into a mug. The thermometer beeped and Stiles pulled it out.

**99.7°F**

**"**Fuck." he muttered as he set the thermometer down. He turned around and shuts the stove off, pouring the hot water into the mug and set it down. He took a spoon and started mixing the contents. Stiles took the mug and turned around, leaning on the counter and took a sip.

He relaxed and slumped his shoulder. He felt the warm liquid ooze down inside him, warming him up.

Stiles finished the medicine and set the mug in the sink. He headed into the living room and gathered his stuff and spotted the supposed note Garret left last night. He picked it up and read over it. It was pretty much the same as what his dad had told him. When he got to the end of the note he spotted a number. Garret's number.

Stiles grabbed his phone from the table and punched the number in, sending him a text.

**Unknown Number:** **Yo, Stiles here. Sorry about knocking out like that, those maxi streghtd knock me out.**

**Unknown Number:**** Strength***

"Stupid auto correct." he said.

Stiles grabbed the rest of his stuff and went upstairs to his room. He set his stuff at his desk and then went back to his bed, crawling under his blanket. He felt his phone vibrate in his hand. Stiles unlocked his phone and checked, seeing a text from Garret.

**Garret**: **It's fine. It was mostly my fault for grabbing the wrong one? Then again you never told me that would happen. :P**

**Stiles:**** Oh yeah, blame the sick person.**

**Garret:**** You're sick? Are you alright?**

**Stiles:**** I'm fine. Just a small fever, probably because of the rain yesterday. Took some medicine so it should be alright.**

**Garret:**** Want me to come over? I can make some soup for you. :)**

**Stiles:**** Nah, it's fine. I planned on sleeping in anyways.**

**Garret:**** Never anything to do on Sundays, huh?**

**Stiles:**** Haha, yeah. Uh, I gotta go, see ya tomorrow?**

**Garret:**** Yea, see ya.**

"Yo, Derek." Stiles turned to the werewolf coming through Stiles' window. Derek looked at him once he came in and froze. He scrunched his eyebrows together and took a whiff of air. "What?" Stiles asked, looking at him.

"It's nothing." Derek seemed to bite his words back. "You think you can find anything on fairies?"

"_Fairies?_ Seriously? What happened?" Stiles got up and headed towards his laptop. Derek shrugs.

"Isaac got captured by them several days ago. When we got him, apparently they weren't aware of the territory being under Hale's again, as they say it. They say they want to negotiate a treaty."

"Whoa, whoa—stop right there. Isaac got captured? How come nobody didn't tell me until now?"

"We didn't need your help, Stiles." Derek said and Stiles just twitched at that. That's just translated as '_we don't need you."_

"What do you need to know." Stiles simply said ignoring the pain that escalated in his chest just now.

Derek left as soon as he got the info he wanted and apparently the fairies weren't actually fairies and that they were actually pixies. They had tried to get Derek to negotiate and trick him into giving off his land to them.

It was odd. Derek usually stayed afterwards and talked, hanged out, etc. It wasn't late at all, but he just left.

Without another word.

Much like how Derek was in the beginning.

_Well, you are so very fucking welcome Derek. It was thanks to me that you get to keep your precious land._

.

.

As Monday rolled around, Stiles reluctantly got ready for it. Honestly? He already felt like crap so going to school wasn't really going to dampen his mood more. He also wanted to see how Isaac was doing, after hearing what happened to him.

He had skipped his medicine today since he woke up a bit late, though he was glad since he wouldn't be twice as drowsy.

Stiles drove up the parking lot; his usual parking spot was taken. Sure enough he was late for that to happen. Stiles had to drive in the back, far away for an available parking spot. This ultimately sucked because his leg still throbbed a bit. It was difficult to not limp, but he wasn't about to go through school with a limp. No way.

It was hard not to wince as he went up the stairs to the entrance of the school. Stiles was glad that everything seemed to drop, though he did catch several eyes glance at him.

He saw Isaac as well as Boyd and Erica. He called out to Isaac, but they didn't seem to hear him and Stiles knew that something was up.

Werewolves have really good hearing and going on like they didn't hear him? Either something happened or they were ignoring him for some reason. He swiped a quick text at Isaac.

"Stiles!" he heard Garret call out to him. Stiles turned around and saw Garret smiling as he jogged over to him. "Hey, you feeling any better?" he asked.

"Under the weather, I'll live." Stiles said as he opened his locker. His heart jumped up to his throat when he saw the familiar envelope sitting right there.

An envelope he was sure that wasn't there before.

Stiles grabbed the envelope along with a few of his textbooks and closed his locker.

"Is your leg doing any better?"

"Yeah, though this school thing isn't making it heal any faster."

"Why don't you use crutches?" he asked as Stiles turned, heading towards class.

"That would bruise my ego dude, no thanks. It's not that bad."

"You sure are stubborn."

"Yes, yes I am."

Stiles sat in his first period class behind Scott (behind, across, whatever). He was about to ask him if anything was up with those three, but he saw Scott pulled his phone out and laugh at a text. He saw Allison poke him from behind and whispered what he was laughing at. He held in a laugh and whispered something funny Isaac texted him.

Ah.

Ignoring Stiles now are we?

Somehow this was making him feel more Ill.

After class ended, he headed straight for the bathroom and into the stall, locking it behind him. Stiles leaned on the wall as he maneuvered his backpack in front of him and opened his backpack, taking the envelope out. It was only one picture and a note. He took a look at the photo and this one was probably more terrifying than the ones before.

It was a picture of him, completely passed out on the couch.

Stiles tried not to visibly shake. He had hoped the stalker had gone bored and disappeared, but there he was, standing in his living room and snapped a photo of Stiles. He took the note from behind and read it.

* * *

_"I'm sorry I've been absent with these for such a long time. A few things came up. I decided to visit you and there you were, passed out on the couch. I guess our meeting would have to hold."_

* * *

Stiles really needed to do something about this problem. He shook his head, not being able to think up of someone who could help him. They were either mad or ignoring him. He still couldn't be able to go to his dad about this.

This whole stalking thing was a bit humiliating and Stiles definitely he didn't want to scare his dad.

Stiles just shoved the contents back into the envelope and stuck it inside his backpack and wedged it all the way toward the bottom.

He needed to do something about this, and quick.

As soon as he puked.

Yea, puking sounded good right now.

.

.

As Stiles progressed through the morning half of his classes, he started feeling worse and worse. It was hard to keep his eyes open and he started to get headaches. Really bad ones. Ones that made him rest in the nurse's office during lunch.

With all the things going on, the stress was weighing on him and he needed to rest and take a breather. He had honestly tried to find and talk to Danny during lunch, but he didn't find him anywhere. He gave up and decided for another day.

Stiles fell asleep once he came in and asked if he could rest there for a while. The nurse nodded and gave him until lunch was over, which wasn't very long. When she came over to call him up, Stiles could barely move at all. He shivered when she gently pulled the covers away from him.

The nurse's face faltered a bit. She frowned as felt Stiles' forehead. It was too warm for it to be under the weather, or so how the boy put it. She heard the door open, seeing the tall boy she frequently saw with Stiles.

"Mr. Garret, is everything alright?"

"I was just checking on Stiles. I didn't see him at lunch at all so I assumed he would be in here." he looked at Stiles, passed out on the bed.

"Can you grab the thermometer on the wall over there, hun?" she asked and pointed at the device hanging from the wall. Garret nodded and went over to grab it, handing it to the nurse. She muttered a thank you before slipping the plastic on it and carefully slipped it under Stiles' tongue.

The nurse cursed as she saw the temperature climb up past 100. It slowed down and finally settled at 103.5.

"He needs to go to the hospital." the nurse said. She went over to the phone and called for an ambulance and instructed it to go to the school.

"It's still climbing up." Garret said as he saw the thermometer go up a little.

"Grab a few ice packs from the freezer and try to cool him off with It." she said quickly as she phoned the front office what happened. The bell rang, but Garret didn't even falter. He went straight toward the fridge and opened up the freezer compartment and took a few packed out. "Looks like you're going to be a little late hun'."

"No, it's fine. I'm more worried about Stiles than classes right now." he said as he closed the fridge door. "Where do I put the ice packs?"

"One on his forehead, and a few around his torso." Garret nodded at her instructions and quickly maneuvered a few up Stiles' shirt, although it was difficult to do so with the many layers of shirts he wore.

"Sorry about this, Stiles, I'll buy you some new ones." he said to the unconscious boy as he practically ripped the shirts.

"…I have scissors…" she said.

"Sorry, but I remember Stiles saying, and I quote, '_I don't do sickness' _end quote." he set one under each armpit, and a few down his side. Garret closed his arms together.

The secretary from the front office opened the door.

"The ambulance is just around the corner." she said.

"Good, have someone ready to show them the way he—" the nurse said, but Garret cut her off.

"That'll waste time." He says and un-tucks the sheets from the bed and wraps Stiles around it. He then carefully lifted him up with ease and flinches at how hot his body is. "This is quicker."

.

.

Stiles felt himself being carried as he drifted in and out of consciousness. He was also freezing cold. He tried to shift around so he could get warmer, but the grip tightened around him. Stiles couldn't muster enough strength to fight against it.

Stiles starts to panic when he feels himself being handed off to someone else. The adrenaline from the fear in him gave him enough energy to start struggling. He tried to open his eyes, but the blinding light made it hard to.

"Sti—Stiles! Calm down!"

"So—son calm down. You're in safe hands." a voice tried to calm him.

"Stiles. It's me, Garret. Calm. Down." his voice reassured Stiles and he quit struggling. "You have a high fever, you're in an ambulance right now and we can't leave until we get you to calm down, alright?" Stiles nodded a bit and instinctively held onto Garret's wrist.

He hears a woman sigh. "You're going to have to come with us it seems." she said to Garret.

"It's perfectly fine. I was planning on leaving as soon as you left anyways."

.

.

As soon as they finally reached the hospital, a small group of nurses were waiting just outside the door. They finally manage to knock him out since he was still freaking out.

Garret was just waiting in the…well…waiting room until he heard a huge commotion.

"—is my Son? What happened?"

"Johnathan, calm down. He has a really high fever and they're trying to bring it down. He needs to rest before you can be able to see him." a woman's voice said. Garret gets up from the chair and turns around the corner, seeing the two standing there. The woman refusing to let him through.

"Sheriff?" Garret said. The man turned around and saw Garret.

"Garret? What happened?" he went over to the tall teen.

"We should go and sit down." he said. As the three walk to the waiting room, Garret finally explained to them of what happened and how Stiles had most likely gotten sick.

John got angry when he heard what Jackson had done to Stiles and had made him walk home in the rain.

He felt a twinge of guilt because he took his jeep, but he had honestly thought people were more mature and not misunderstand something, though these types of situations, a lot of people tend to get a lot of misunderstandings.

"Why does he never tell me anything?" John sighed out.

"He doesn't want to worry you." Garret said. John laughed.

"That always does the exact opposite."

"I remember Stiles saying something like 'I don't do sickness.' What did he mean by that?"

"When normal people get sick, all they have to do is take some medicine and rest in, right?" Garret nodded.

"Yea, that's usually how it goes."

"With Stiles, it's different. He gets twice as sick. His immune system is low, so when a virus or a bacteria gets him, it's twice as worse for him than the others."

"Wait, is that why he always wear so much layers of clothes?" Garret asked. He heard the sheriff chuckle.

"Yea."

"Mr. Stilinski?" a voice interrupted their thoughts. They turned to see a doctor with a gentle smile.

"Y-yes, my son? How is he?" John quickly asked.

"Everything is fine now. We gave him an ice bath and his temperature is dropping. If his temperature had climbed any higher, he would've been at risk for brain damage." he said. "You can go see him now."

The three walked down the hall, Melissa leading the way, and finally approached Stiles' room. They could hear shouts coming from the room. Melissa opened it, seeing Stiles all bundled up in a blanket and curled into a ball. There were a few nurses around him trying to get him out.

"Honey, we need to get an I.V. in you. Can you please get out from there?"

"No!"

"Mr. Stilinski."

"Y-you p-put me—no I'm s-sure one of you _d-dropped_ me in the ice b-b-bath and held me in there! I'm f-f-freezing!"

"It was a necessary procedure so we can bring your fever down. We didn't have any other options."

"Please don't make us put you to sleep if you refuse to comply with us."

"Stiles!" his dad called out to him.

"D-dad?" Stiles poked his head from the blankets.

"What are you doing? Get out from under there."

"Stiles, you're going to bring your temperature up and we're going to have to give you _another_ ice bath." Melissa reprimanded him. "Now get out from under there, _right now._"

Stiles flinched at the tone of her voice. He reluctantly got out from the ball of sheets and maneuvered himself and laid back down, though he refused to get out of the sheets.

"I'll get you a blanket, now get out from the sheets." Melissa sighed. She heard him grumbled and took the sheets off of him. He let the nurse take his hand and insert the I.V. in.

Garret chuckled. "You do pout afterall."

"I don't pout."

"Yes you do."

"_Seriously._"

.

.

"Alright Mr. Stilinski, you're ready to go!" a cheery nurse came in.

"_Finally_." Stiles groaned out. "No more hospital food."

Stiles was hospitalized for about three days. The ice bath seemed to have worked in lowering his temperature down and after Melissa had basically reprimanded him, he obeyed her so he could avoid the second ice bath.

And curly fries. She bought him with curly fries.

Mmmm.

Garret visited him every single day and Stiles was thankful for it, as well as the nurses, because he was honestly going to start bugging the nurses.

Nobody from the pack had visited him, which was honestly really hurtful, though there was the possibility of them not knowing or maybe something had come up and they had to focus on the more important matters.

It was fine.

They obviously needed space from the awesome Stiles Stilinski. He remembered asking for his phone, but they told him he needed to rest first. Garret told him that he went and got their bags from school. His was at Stile's house.

Though, weren't werewolves supposed to have heightened senses? A quick visit, a _'Hi Stiles! How are ya?'_ or _'Get well soon!' _or something.

Silence was unnecessary, and he was thankful Garret had been there to keep him company. He always visited right after school, along with extra copies of homework and notes he took for Stiles. He said it was really boring without Stiles there. Garret said he was glad Stiles was getting out of the hospital because he was starting to get lonely without him.

That made Stiles happy.

At least someone missed him.

.

.

It sucked because when he was at the hospital, Garret had to mention his leg injury. It wasn't even an injury! He just…pulled a muscle. That was it, nothing serious.

The nurse just shook her head and started wrapping his lower leg in a bandage. She instructed him to stay off, or at least put less pressure on it, since it was Stiles in all. The nurse then asked Garret to keep a closer eye on Stiles because he tended to not listen.

Garret nodded and said he intended to. He laughed when the nurse said that Stiles worried a lot of people.

Stiles just aggressively sighed.

He has to work a stupid crutch. Goddamn, what shit has Stiles have gone through? Was he accident prone?

No, just plain clumsy.

He can't drive his jeep, or at least his dad won't let him. So either his dad has to take him, or Garret does. Stiles didn't want to bother his dad in taking him, so he opted for Garret to take him instead.

Garret seemed more than happy to do so, which relieved Stiles a bit. He didn't want to bother the guy.

"How long do I have to work with…this." he motioned at the crutch. "I hate these things so much."

"The nurse said about a week should heal your muscle. She said that you nearly tore it with how improper you took care of It." his dad said. "It was either that or three days of complete bed rest and I know you can't do that."

"You're right, I honestly can't." Stiles said as he hopped out of the kitchen chair and placed his dirty plate in the sink.

"I'll get that, I think I heard Garret's truck in the front. You go and be careful alright?" his dad said.

"I will, I will. Bye dad!" he said as he grabbed the crutch and his backpack. Stiles awkwardly went down the steps and went over to the black truck out on the side. Garret was already there, tall, sunglasses and a gentle smile when he saw Stiles. He helped Stiles up the truck and then drove off.

"Anything new at school happen while I was gone?" he asked.

"Not really, real boring. I didn't think it could get any boring but it did." he said. "Did you look over the notes I gave you?"

"Oh, didn't have the chance to yet. I was planning on making copies instead of re-writing them so I can save the future cramp. Dude, do you realize you write a lot?"

"I'm good at taking notes, Stiles." he smiles.

.

.

"Stiles, where were you?" was the first thing Scott asked him in the hall. Garret had disappeared to his locker and Stiles was on his way to first period so he wouldn't be swept up in the crowd. Scott pulled him off to the side.

Was he missed by Scott? Aww he—

"I kept texting you and calling you, but you wouldn't pick up!" he sounded…angry?

"Whoa, Scott, hold on. What are you talking about?"

"Monday afternoon? A whole gang of pixies and fairies decided to have a turf war and we really needed back up. We needed you to make a circle from mountain ash to keep the pixies in so they wouldn't escape." Scott said. "We managed to form a treaty with the fairies and rounded all of them up. It took the entire night."

"Oooh, dude, fire works against forest pixies. I mean, assuming that they are forest pixies since they want Derek's turf in all and his turf is the preserve."

"Stiles, this is serious."

"Yeah, I know that. Which is why you guys should've told me in the first place and this whole thing would've been avoided if you had. Derek only told me a few days ago and didn't tell me anything else. I tried to get in contact with Isaac and ask how he was or the others since he was ignoring me but you guys were ignoring me for some reason I don't know." Stiles almost yelled in Scott's face.

"You're the one that avoided going to meetings in the first place!" Scott retaliated. Stiles eternally winced. Yeah, he did do that. Only pack a _few_meetings. He didn't avoid all of them.

"I didn't go to meetings, but that doesn't exclude me from you guys. If you guys are in trouble, tell me." Stiles said. "Seriously, I told you I had a problem, but you completely brushed it off!" The bell rang and startled them both. Stiles just shook his head and walked, or limped, passed Scott.

As class started, Stiles awkwardly set his crutch down beside his desk and started pulling his note book out and took notes. Garret poked him from beside him. Stiles turned to see him flash a look of concern. Stiles just shook his head and mouthed '_later'_. Garret shrugged his shoulders and turned back to where the teacher was writing on the board.

Stiles was starting to think that Scott is nearly blind. That or he doesn't pay attention or…something Stiles can't think of at the moment. Seriously, he's on a darn crutch and Scott just dragged Stiles to the side, not minding his leg at all.

Stiles wanted to beat Scott repeatedly with his crutch for not being an awesome bro.

Do you want to know who the awesome bro right now?

Garret.

.

.

"Something's wrong, whats wrong?" Garret asked Stiles as they left first period.

"Nah, it's nothing. I was supposed to help Scott and a few others with something and they're mad that I couldn't since I was in the hospital."

"…Did they know that you were in the hospital?"

"...No, and I'm not telling them either. I'm just gonna let them figure it out on their own and let them feel really guilty over it."

"What if they don't?"

Stiles looked at him for a moment. "…I don't know." He replied to him. "I'm just glad nobody is looking at me with pity. That's something I don't ever need."

"Nobody wants pity."

.

.

Stiles got a text from Derek asking that he needed to speak to him after school. It was weird, because usually whenever Derek sent a text to everyone in the pack, its important, but when it's a direct text, he doesn't know if it should be something personal or something really important.

He couldn't really get there, with the issue of not having his jeep in all since his dad didn't want him to drive it with his leg, even though it was honestly not that bad (or so he keeps telling himself). Maybe as soon as he got home, he could sneak out in his jeep and drive there, though he wanted to avoid a very worried sheriff…

Stiles weighted the chances on walking there, taking a cab, or driving there and it all just ends up pretty bad. Stiles just sent him a text to see him at his place, since his dad took the keys to the jeep.

Stiles just shoved his phone back into his pocket and walked toward coach Finstock's office so he could give him his doctor's note about his leg. He reached his office and knocked on the door. He heard Finstock grunt, a sign of saying he was in. Stiles walked in, seeing Finstock doing some paperwork.

"Hey Coach, I needed to give you this." Stiles handed his slip to Finstock, who plucked it out of his hand.

"And would this be the reason why you were absent for three days—what the hell did you do to your leg?" he said as soon as he read it. He peered across his desk to take a quick look at his leg.

"I accidentally pulled a muscle the other week and I guess I over worked it and strained it again." Stiles shrugged. "The doctor said to keep on the crutch and let it rest."

"Speaking of—why were you in the hospital?" he looked at Stiles.

"I had a high fever."

"High enough to be hospitalized?"

"Yup."

"Would this be because of you running out in the rain after Jackson dumped his tray on you? Probably how you pulled your leg also." he said. Stiles froze. How did he know?

"Did…you see the whole thing?"

"I saw you running out in the rain, but I didn't see the whole dumping tray thing. This is a high school, Stilinski, people talk."

"Yea…I kind of figured."

"And people also do mean things like lying about certain feelings and then turning your back and betraying it." Oh. Guess everyone knew about the whole Danny thing. "Or other things like dumping trays on other people." He heard the Jackson thing too.

Stiles didn't say anything though. He just stood there.

"I'm not taking any sides here, and I know kids nowadays go too fast in relationships—"

"—I didn't sleep with Garret!" Stiles shouted.

"—as well as seeing things the wrong way." Finstock finished. Stiles closed his mouth. "I know you enough that you're a hell of a loyal friend. Which is why you haven' even reported Jackson's bullying."

"He only dumped his tray on me, he was angry because he thought I hurt Danny." he said. "Jackson is a douche, but he's loyal to his friends too."

"You don't know that he sabotaged your lacrosse locker? And also your locker in school?"

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on there. Both of Stiles' lockers were perfectly clean, spotless.

"Sabota—what are you talking about? There's nothing wrong with my lockers at all."

"Oh, ho, ho, I saw it. Caught him red handed too. It was when you were in the hospital, your buddy, Garret was it? He came real early on one of the days while you were gone and cleaned up your locker. He cleaned up your gym locker too. Jackson sort of gave up."

"Thanks for telling me. I need to go." Stiles said before walking out of Finstock's office.

Just how much did he hurt Danny for Jackson to do this? Seriously, Stiles needed to find Danny and try to explain to him the truth. He also needed to thank Garret for cleaning out his lockers that Jackson had supposedly trashed. It made him wonder how trashed it was, but he assumed not so much since it was perfectly fine when he came back.

So let's see here:

**1) Apologize to Danny and try to explain to him it was all a misunderstanding.**

**2) Thank Garret**

**3) Talk to Derek about something**

Stiles let out a huff of air—oh yea, another thing to add to the list.

**4) Deal with Mr. Stalker.**

Stiles remembered he couldn't find a trace of anything when he took a look at the notes and photos. No fingerprints whatsoever, no resemblance in signatures what so ever or style of stalking.

Stiles remembered the huge headache from banging his head multiple times on the table from the frustration.

Jesus Christ, his life right now.

Stiles was starting to wonder if Danny had vanished into thin air. He couldn't find him at all and he has the feeling that Jackson or the others are helping him in avoiding Stiles, though this doesn't clear the fact that he hasn't seen him in class either since he came back. He'll just have to put off on apologizing to Danny until he can run into him (or when he can get his address and go to his house personally.)

Stiles headed for his last class of the day a bit late since the talk with the coach was longer than he intended. The teacher just looked at him when he came in a bit late, but didn't call him out for being tardy. He sat down and pulled his notebook out and started scribbling down notes he saw from the board.

He wondered if he should tell the pack about his stalker issue. He honestly thought that problem was done with, but after the resurfacing of the envelopes again, he guessed that this problem needed to be handled, although that reminded him that the pack seemed to be an in a foul mood with Stiles, Jackson especially.

Should he just tell his dad already? He really didn't want to hear his dad yell at him for being a huge idiot and not telling him in the first place because something like this was serious. Stiles imagined all the stuff his dad would do as soon as he found out. It would be either house lockdown/cell lockdown (his dad will definitely go down to that last straw just to protect Stiles).

But that last photo…that last _photo_. The fucker was in his fucking house when Stiles was asleep. Inches away from Stiles and he didn't even _know_. Just remembering it sent shivers down his spine and churned his stomach. If the guy had honestly come that _close_ to Stiles, he knew how in danger he already was.

Stiles just wants to know one thing. Why him? Just _why him?_ He had done nothing special to even get attention from someone, nothing special. Stiles was still contemplating if this person was supernatural or not. If he was, a circle of mountain ash would help him. If he wasn't, there was the possibility of Stiles being in danger and the slim chance of the pack helping him wouldn't be able to because of the mountain ash.

Why the hell was everything complicated?

After Garret had dropped Stiles off at his house, he left, needing to run some errands and send money off to some family. Great, because Derek should be up in his room if he knew the werewolf any better. Stiles jammed the key in the lock, opening the door. He came in and ditched the crutch. He leaned it on the side of the wall near the door and toed off his shoes. Stiles bounded upstairs and opened his room, seeing Derek leaning against his wall. He was looking out the window, most likely at Garret's truck, and then directed his attention at Stiles.

Derek's whole posture seemed a bit hostile. His shoulders were tensed, his jaw clenched, fists were curled tightly together, his expression was guarded

"Derek…uh, what's up? You wanted to talk?" Stiles said. He dropped his backpack on the floor beside his door.

"Yea, talk." he simply said. "Let's talk about how you barely even show up for pack meetings anymore."

Oh shit.

"Derek, I can explain…well not really at the moment. Just—I have things to deal with—"

"—things more important than pack?" he asked.

"Yes! Wait—I mean not completely. Just—Derek I'll explain it to you once I've dealt with it."

Stiles knew this was going to happen eventually.

"Please don't do this now." Stiles pleaded

"You can't even tell us what it is. Is this about _him?_"

"Who—Garret? No! This isn't about him. He's just a friend."

"I can hardly believe that." Derek glared at him.

Stiles groaned. "Wha—there's nothing between me and him."

Derek just shook his head. "I can't believe you anymore Stiles. We can't even trust you anymore." Derek said. "Don't think we need you Stiles. Danny and Lydia can do just as much as research than you."

He knew this moment would come. He just hadn't prepared for it.

"You're out of the pack, Stiles." Derek just looked at him.

"Derek—wait—" Stiles needed to just tell Derek already.

"Quit making excuses, Stiles. Don't bother trying to apologize to Danny either."

"— but Derek!" if only he'll listen.

"Just shut up, Stilinski!" Derek yelled at him. Stiles' whole body flinched at the vicious tone.

But he won't listen. Derek wouldn't shut the hell up and try to let Stiles explain everything. Stiles felt like he couldn't breathe at all. His mouth opened but nothing came out. His voice died in his throat, along with the words that he wanted to spill out.

Just the sheer tone Derek used and the name he referred Stiles to, just called him by his last name like he was nothing.

This misunderstanding was getting blown way out of proportion. Stiles needed to fix everything soon. He couldn't do anything else until he cleared up the misunderstanding with Danny and him. He knew this called for confrontation.

.

.

Stiles called for a cab Saturday morning and headed toward Garret's house. He sighed in relief when he saw his large black truck in the gravel driveway. He paid the taxi driver and walked on toward Garret's front door, ringing it. Garret opened the door; Stiles wondered what he was doing because the guy looked awake. He had some bed hair, and his shirt seemed to be missing.

Garret smiled when he saw Stiles.

"Stiles! What's up?" he motioned for Stiles to come in. Stiles stepped inside the house and saw some light emitting from a room far down the hallway. He glanced only for a moment before turning his attention back on Garret.

"We need to find Danny and clear up this whole misunderstanding." Stiles said quickly. "They still think I turned my back on him and now everyone is pissed at me and holy fuck, I seriously need to clear up this huge fog of misunderstanding like, now." Stiles breathed in harshly.

"…something tells me this can't wait, won't it?" Stiles shook his head.

"I'm sorry if I interrupted something, but it has to be like now. Confrontation like pronto because I don't like where this all headed."

"…sure. Just wait for a bit alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, early morning, take a shower and get ready I'll be right here." He saw Garret nod and walk off back into his room.

Stiles sighed. He hoped this confrontation cleared things up. He's still honestly unaware of how this all went downhill. Stiles took a moment to step back on everything. He hated Garret at first, but that cleared up after he was told Garret was asexual. He just wanted to be friendly. They did homework here and fell asleep. Stiles and Garret both on the couch and both rushed to school, yea okay that did look like they just had sex.

But Jesus fuck, they're werewolves! They should've known that Stiles was telling the truth, and they should've at least smelled it on him or something.

How could something like that throw them all off? He knew by now that the smell shouldn't be that potent. Even Derek noticed when he came about the fairies thing. Stiles noticed his composure and he was sure Derek smelled Garret on him, but Stiles didn't even come into contact with him much that day, only when Garret lifted Stiles for a quick moment and set him on the couch.

Jackson said that he could smell him all over Stiles. That should've been from the honest cuddle sleep they had, but from the way Jackson sneered (though when didn't he) at him. Did the smell stick to him that much?

He was so entirely sure and pissed at how hurt Danny had seemed when he told Danny, he had to dump his entire tray on him and thrash both of his lockers.

Stiles was a bit thankful for having Garret clean both his lock—wait.

Wait.

Wait.

**Wait.**

Both his lockers.

Garret of course knew Stiles' hall locker, but how did he know the one he used for gym and lacrosse? The coach said he came early to clean them up, but why on earth did he come early in the first place?

Okay, back to Garret being odd again. He said he was asexual, but that still didn't explain his over touchy ness. Like when he just picked Stiles up in the kitchen and set him on the couch without asking or just putting an arm around him or anything common like.

He didn't even ask which medicine he should take for Stiles…he chose the maximum ones. If any other person would have been in that position, they would've asked or felt which had less and took that one. The maximum strength ones were bought on accident and his dad used it from time to time when he accidentally drank too much (and that rarely happened)

Stiles wondered how long he had stayed for the stalker guy to come in and take a picture of him asleep, completely passed out on the couch. He was vulnerable enough right then and there.

A thought came into Stiles' mind. "Nah…that…couldn't be…" he muttered.

Having that picture been produced the same night Garret was over, it seemed too coincidental.

What did the note mean by having things to do?

_Things like transferring into another school._

No, no, no.

_Things like settling and blending in._

No, that couldn't be.

Stiles shook his head and then spotted Garret's backpack lying on the couch. Stiles turned to see nobody, and decided to unzip the backpack and look in it.

Notebooks, binders, envelops, books, paper—whoa.

Envelope.

Stiles scoffed to himself. It was just a coincidence. People use orange envelopes.

Stiles took the envelope and opened it. He shook the contents out and his heart stuttered, or more like froze. Blood rushed through his ears, pounding along with his heart after the moment of silence it gave out. His breathing hitched.

Inside was a note folded in half.

It couldn't be.

No. _Ha_, no.

Stiles opened the note slowly and saw the same black handwriting that haunted him for a while now.

Same exact handwriting.

Stiles should've listened to his guts earlier when they told him Garret was a no, no.

His guts were trying to tell him Garret was a bad guy…

That Garret was the stalker.

So the suspicion on Garret having almost identical schedules, his locker being near Stiles, same lunch, It was all his doing. Stiles read the note.

* * *

_"I'm coming for you soon."_

* * *

Stiles shoved the contents back into the envelope and snapped his head to look down the hall only to see Garret standing there. Fear began to flood into him as a nervous trickle of sweat glided down from the side of his head and down his cheek.

Stiles yanked the backpack up and threw it at Garret. The contents flew out and Stiles heard him say something but he didn't pay attention. He turned and ran toward the door, yanking it open and dashed outside. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

Stiles ran down the steps and started running into the thick forest. If he ran down the road, it would be easier to catch him. Running into the forest would be better and concealed him more. He reached into his pocket and took out his cell phone, dialing Scott's number.

No answer.

Derek's number—no answer.

Allison—no.

Lydia—no.

Erica—no.

Isaac—no.

Boyd—no.

Danny—no.

Jackson—no.

Why wasn't anyone answering?! If he managed to call Boyd or even Jackson then it should be a given clue that something was terribly wrong.

He ended up calling Peter for godssake—"Hello, Stiles. What brings you this lovely morning calling me?" Holy shit finally!

"Oh, god. You of all people picked up the phone. Listen! I need help—"

"Help?"

"Yes! Yes! Quick summary, creepy stalker for a few months, photos in the frame of my mattress, Gar—" the line cuts off. Stiles looked at his phone, while dodging a few trees and saw he was out of service ranger. Stiles stopped and turned to round another way to get a connection again only running in something hard after he swiveled around another tree.

Stiles looked and saw it was Garret. Stiles tried to shove him away, but Garret had a hard grip on Stiles' wrist. He accidentally dropped his phone on the ground somewhere when he was yanked harshly toward the ground.

Stiles landed on the ground, letting out a rush of air that was forced out of his lungs. Garret managed to grab both of Stiles' wrists into one hand. Stiles saw a flash of something white and holy shit, _no, no, no._

Stiles flailed his legs and tried to get Garret from the back of his head, or something. Garret moved one of his thighs and pressed it on Stiles' left leg. His other leg was trapped under Garret. A white cloth muffled out his screams. Stiles smelled the scent of something sweet. It made his head feel fuzzy; blurring his vision a bit till everything went black.

Garret sighed. "I'm sorry for being so forceful, Stiles." he ran a finger down the unconscious boy's soft, flushed cheek, tracing the stream of tears that fell. "Don't worry. Everything will be better. I promise." he lifted the boy into his arms and walked back towards his house.

He had his things all set up already. Now it's just a matter of time before he can finally be with the boy.

He waited, planning this out for so long.

Finally.

_Finally._

.

.

Jackson and Danny walked through the woods in the morning, waiting for the rest to arrive so they could start on their training.

"Are you sure you don't want me to take you to a club to get laid?" Jackson offered to a sulking Danny.

"No thanks, Jackson."

"Come on, I'll get you a five star rated prostitute."

"Jackson."

"Seriously, I hate seeing you like this. Are you sure you don't want me to give Stilinski a swirly?"

Jackson heard Danny mumbled that seeing that would make him feel a bit better. "Don't resort to bullying Jackson. Being a douchebag, yes, bully, no. Besides, you'll get in trouble." he heard Jackson snort.

"Like I care?"

Danny shook his head.

"I still can't believe he would sleep with Garret like that. That didn't seem what Stiles would do. I was sure Stiles had a thing for Derek." Danny said.

Jackson was quiet. "It's Stilinski. You can never predict him."

"Yeah, but when he told me that Garret gave him the major creeps, that was one hundred percent truth in his eyes when he said that." Danny sighed. "Are you su-"

"Yes, for the hundrenth time, i'm sure. I can smell them all over each other, Danny. There's a distictive smell from cuddling and _sex_. What i smelt from those two was definitely not cuddling!" Jackson said angrily. "He lied to you. I was even surprised he would do that! There was solid proof right then and there. It happened twice. Any of the pack could smell it on him."

Danny didn't say anything.

Jackson playfully nudged him. "Come on, I hear the others coming."

Danny sighed, attempting to get off topic. "This whole fairy thing is getting out of hand Jackson. I'm just glad they're leaving already. Lydia is good at convincing."

Jackson smiled. "Sure is."

The two approached the Hale house, seeing the other's finally arrived. Allison arrived in her car along with Scott (the two finally made up and was together again). Boyd and Erica arrived after Lydia went to go pick them up. She oddly said she would since Jackson said he was going to try and cheer Danny up. Derek bounded out of the house along with Isaac.

"It was about time." Jackson said. "I have anger to vent out."

"When do you not?" Boyd rolled his eyes.

Off to the side, Allison elbowed a sad Scott. "You'll talk to him later alright?" she whispered. Scott looked at her and nodded.

"Let's start training already." Derek said, voice clipped. "Jackson and Boyd. Erica and Isaac. Scott you're with me."

The werewolves trained until the fairies arrived, bidding the hale pack farewell.

"Dealing with them was a handful. I never want to deal with a pixie ever again." Isaac said.

"At least we got you before they did anything else." Erica rustled his hair.

"Not before they doused me in fucking glitter." Isaac said. "That shit is a pain to get out."

"It was hilarious though. They wanted to make you their king." Erica snickered. "And make Lydia their queen."

"Like they would ever get a chance to douse me with glitter. I'm not some immature preteen girl in love with Edward Cullen." Lydia said. They both rolled their eyes.

"If Stephanie Meyers got something right from that series, it was the fact about Werewolves never have a shirt on." Boyd said. He paused for a moment, realizing what he just said.

"I feel like someone else was supposed to say that line." Erica cocked her head. "Let's spar again, so I don't feel like sulking." she said. "Scott! You and me!" she walked off.

"Catwoman is missing her Batman." Isaac muttered. Boyd nodded slightly.

"Batman was bound to betray at some point." Boyd simply said. He sighed as he nudged at Isaac for another round.

"You're not the only one that's hurt Danny." Lydia said. Her, Allison and Danny hung around the porch. Danny leaned on the support beam. "Everyone else is too. Derek especially."

Danny nodded. "Everyone noticed something was off when he came back after he asked Stiles about the fairies. He was off."

"_And_ now we know why." she hummed.

"C'mon Scotty." Erica teased. "That the best you got?" she smirked as she shoved Scott back a few feet.

Scott growled. He got into a defensive stance and was about to pounce until his phone went off. Scott froze, and looked over to the porch were he set his along with the others (during training, they all learned to set their phones off to the side and not on their persons or else it broke due to the brutality of their training). Allison glanced at Scott's vibrating phone that rang. She looked at the screen, seeing Stiles' name appear. She looked up and said its Stiles.

Erica caught Scott off guard and threw him on the ground. "Pay attention, Scotty." she growled. Scott growled and wrestled her, both now fighting for dominance.

"It's Stiles! Let me go so I can get it!" he struggled against her clawed hand.

"Too bad—" another phone went off, this time coming from Derek's phone. Allison cocked her eyebrow, along with Lydia doing the same. Derek off to the side threw Jackson in the air.

"Ignore it." he huffed out. The phone went dead. "Back to training. Pay attenti—" Derek's voice was cut off by anther phone, this time Allison's.

Allison thumbed at her phone, contemplating on picking it up, but Lydia shook her head.

"Don't bother." she said. Her phone went off and she sighed.

"Something doesn't feel right." Allison said. Lydia shrugged and went back to filing her nails.

"Lydia…" Allison said.

"Yes?" she said.

"Your phone." Allison said, pointing at it. Lydia's phone always vibrated a few seconds before the ringtone went off. "Guess who."

Lydia hummed and ignored her phone, filing her nails again once it shut off.

"Something's wrong." Allison muttered.

'_NANANANANANANA-BATMAN!'_ A ringtone went off, obviously Erica's. Erica stopped her tracks and snapped her head at her phone. She clenched her fists, but didn't step forward when Derek growled. The phone went off again.

Isaac's phone was next to go off. Isaac didn't pay attention to it and concentrated on the sparring match with Boyd. The phone went off and Boyd's phone was next. That made Boyd stop and look over at the pack, who all slowed down a bit. He looked at Derek, but the man didn't pay attention.

"Something really is wrong for him to be calling me." he said to Isaac. Isaac shrugged. They both heard Danny's phone go off, who only looked at his phone and simply turned it over, not bothering to get it.

What made them all stop what they were doing was when Jackson's phone went off.

"Alright, seriously, something is wrong Derek." Allison said. "If he's calling Boyd, no offense, or Jackson something isn't right."

Derek only stared at the phones and didn't say anything.

"Derek. Something is wrong." Boyd said. Derek simply shook his head.

"I don't sense any other werewolves around or anything else dangerous when I did perimeter last night."

"Something new might have come this morning?" Scott said. "He called every one of us, even Jackson!" Scott gestured his hand at Jackson, who was quiet the entire time. The pack waited for the phones to go off again.

Scott just shook his head and decided to call Stiles himself. The pack looked at him when he dialed his number.

* * *

_"The phone you are trying to reach is unavailable at this time. Please try again later, thank you, goodbye!"_

* * *

"Dammit!" Scott was getting angry and worried.

"Something is a foot." A voice interrupted them. The pack looked to see Peter, coming through the woods.

"What do you want Peter." Derek said in annoyance.

"No need for hostility. I thought you guys might need a hand for something, but it looks like nothing's wrong here."

"What do you mean?" Scott said. Peter sighed and took his phone out.

"The best thing about these new phones are the ability to record phone calls." Peter chuckled as he tapped his phone.

* * *

_—"Hello, Stiles. What brings you this lovely morning calling me?"_

_"Oh, god. You of all people picked up the phone. Listen! I need help—"_ _"Help?"_ _"Yes! Yes! Quick summary, creepy stalker for a few months, photos in the frame of my mattress, Gar—"_

* * *

"And it just cuts off there." Peter shrugged. The pack seemed a bit alarmed now and Scott groaned out.

"He was serious about that?" Scott said.

"Did he say he had a stalker?" Danny said. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because I thought he would've mentioned it to you guys, so there wouldn't be a point to."

"His pride is stopping himself to tell anyone." Danny said quietly.

"Wait, play the last part again." Derek asked Peter. The man tapped the phone and played it once more.

* * *

_"Help?"_

_"Yes! Yes! Quick summary, creepy stalker for a few months, photos in the frame of my mattress, Gar—"_

* * *

"There, before it cut off." Derek said.

"He said Gar?" Isaac said.

"Oh no." Danny whispered. He got up. "Stiles told me before that…Garret gave him the creeps." He looked at Jackson. "You don't think that—"

"Garret is Mr. Stalker." Lydia finished for him. "Stiles mentioned something about photos." She said, getting up with Allison and walked over to the pack.

"Ah, being the lovely Uncle I am, I went and got them." he said. He opened his coat to reveal several orange envelopes and each handed the pack one. The opened it and gasped, Scott letting out a string of curses.

"Batman never betrays unless he had a reason to." Isaac said. Erica and Boyd looked at him and nodded.

"How did he manage to take all these pictures of Stiles though? It showed most of us were near him at the time, but I didn't hear a click go off or anything." Boyd said.

"Something isn't right about these photos." Danny said as he flipped through them. "I thought that your eyes make it incapable of taking a photo." he mentioned. "Some of these pictures have your yellow eyes in them." he said.

"There's one way to catch a werewolf's picture." Allison said. "Digital Art."

"And a photographic memory." Danny said.

"Guys!" Scott shouted. "We seriously need to go find Stiles now!" Scott was pacing back and forth.

"Scott's right. We need to go now. Where does Garret live?" Derek asked.

"Just on the outskirts on the other side of town." Danny said. "Don't ask how I know that."

"Boyd, Erica, Isaac, your with me. Danny and Lydia with Jackson, Allison and Scott." Derek ordered.

"I think I'll go with Scott." Peter smiled, already headed towards Allison's car. Scott grumbled but didn't say anything.

"Stiles is going to be fine." Allison assures Scott. "Nothing is going to happen."

"Oh, something is going to happen alright. Someone is going to be dead tonight." Derek said as he walked to his Camaro.

Peter chuckled. "This is going to be fun."


	3. The Truth, The Search, A Boy Found

**AHAHAHAHAHA, I LIED. THERE ARE FOUR CHAPTERS.**

**I'M SURE YOU ALL HATE ME.**

**BUT HAVE NO FEAR, THE NEXT AND FOR SURE LAST PART IS MY FAVORITE PART.**

**NO MORE WRITES BLOCK SO YAAAYYY.**

* * *

"It's really weird." Danny said from the back seat of Jackson's porche. They were following behind the Camaro.

"What exactly—the pictures?" Jackson said.

"Yea, the pictures of only Stiles are real. The ones with one of you guys, and by that I mean werewolves, were digital, but when I look closer it looks like half of the picture was real and the other half was digital."

"So he edits them?" Lydia said.

"Probably because of your eyes flashing." Danny muttered as he looked at the pictures carefully.

"Something tells me he has a hunch of what's going on with us. With so many pictures of our eye—wait a minute. Wouldn't we be able to hear the shutters of the camera go off?" Jackson asked.

"That's….a good question. I should be asking you that." Danny looked at him with a perplexed look.

"Unless he was far away enough from us that you weren't able to hear it go off." Lydia said. "My question is how on earth Stiles got under his radar." Danny shrugged.

"Put the other's on the phone." Danny asked. Lydia took out her phone and made a three way conversation between Allison and Isaac. The two picked up.

"Lydia?" Allison's voice perked.

"Yea?" Isaac said.

"The photos, I'm looking at them right now and nearly half of these were taken months ago." Danny said.

"Month's ago? What gave that off?" Allison asked.

"It was a dress that Lydia wore, before Boyd dropped a pizza on it because of Erica. This was from her party she threw at her house." Danny heard Lydia grumble off to the side about not being able to remove the pizza sauce on it.

"Wait, so Stiles have been stalked by this guy for a long time now? That party was like, three months ago." Erica on the other line.

"The last time Stiles and I practiced together was nearly three months ago, but the picture we saw was from summer, I remember that moment." Scott said.

"So you're saying that Garret had been stalking Stiles for nearly _half_ a year and nobody noticed?" Boyd said.

"—But why did he decided to show them to Stiles _now._ The last photo in the large batch I saw was when Stiles said that joke to Allison and I." Scott said. "That was only four months ago."

"Well if you think about it, digital art takes a long time to make it this perfect. The other ones were just of himself and developed quicker and sent out faster." Danny told them. "He must've wanted these perfect for Stiles to see."

"Something isn't adding up." Isaac said. "I haven't picked up any weird scents that I remember from several months ago. We were all in Stiles jeep at one point or another; nobody had picked up anything that was off."

"Sooo, that means Stiles was hiding this from us or—" Scott said, but was cut off.

"—Mr. Garret knows our little secret." Peter hummed. "Someone's been masking his scent."

"Only until he transferred here and had gotten close with Stiles, he didn't need to worry about masking his scent any longer." Derek said, gripping his steering wheel.

"We need to step on it. From the look of the notes and a photo of a bed, I'm not liking the outcome." Danny said.

Garret held the boy close to him as he made his way down the path and back to his house. He went inside his house and carefully set Stiles on the couch. He went down the hall and into his bedroom, grabbing a needle already prepared. He took a cotton ball and some rubbing alcohol along also.

He was about to knock him out until the boy had went into his backpack and found the envelope. It was his fault really, for carelessly leaving it there.

Garret made his way back down the hall and into the living room. He went over and set the needle down carefully, opening the bottle and pouring a bit on the cotton ball. He swiped at the boy's neck, cleaning the area and then inserting the needle, pushing the chemicals inside the boy that would put him to sleep for a while. He tossed the needle in the nearby trash bin and made his way down the hall to grab a few more things.

He went in his room and took a duffle bag and a large black luggage out. One was already packed with his clothes, the other was empty. He went to the small dresser and took out some cuffs, ones that wouldn't chafe Stiles' wrists, and a gag. He took the luggage and duffle bag on one side, the items in the other. He went back to the living room, smiling each time he went in there when he saw Stiles laying on the couch.

Garret set the duffle bag and the large suitcase down. He went over to Stiles and removes his shoes and socks. He removed the outer layer of his clothes.

Stiles didn't need his shoes anymore.

Garret observed Stiles momentarily. He went over and sat down next to him. He brushed his thumbs over Stiles' temples. He ran one thumb down his face, down his soft cheek, and over to his lips. He ran his thumb over his lips, feeling the softness of them.

Garret stopped at the bottom lip, tugging it down lightly. Garret stared at the red lips, looking over to his long lashes. His eyes wandered down to his lips and he ducks his head, placing his lips on top of Stiles'.

He kissed him while restraining so much back. He bit ever so softly at the bottom lip, sucking gently. Garret let out a whine. A desperate whine because he waited so long for this. He tipped Stiles' head back a bit and kissed at his neck, sucking for a moment and leaving a mark there. He licked at Stiles' collar bone when he tugged at his shirt. He trailed back up, kissing at the part where the neck and the shoulder met. He licked and sucked, leaving another hickey.

He made his way back up and pressed another kiss on the boy's lips. He brushed his cheeks with his thumbs. Garret sighed, having to stop himself from going any further.

If he had kept going, he wouldn't stop at all.

He wanted Stiles' to be awake during it.

He wanted to watch his expressions, hear the sweet noises that Stiles will make.

But now is not the time.

Garret sight as he put the ankle restraints on him, locking them with the small key. He then went around and the couch and puts the first wrist restraint on. He lifted Stiles up a bit and moved his arms behind him. He puts the other on and locked them with the key. He then tied a gag around him carefully, not wanting to damage the boy's beautiful lips.

"This will only be for a little while. You'll be comfortable in a few hours, don't worry." Garret reassured the unconscious figure. He ran a figure down the side of Stiles' face softly. He brushed a fallen eyelash off his cheek and pecked a kiss on it. He picked the boy up gently and walked over to the large suit case. He kicked the top open and Garret kneeled down. He laid Stiles down inside and zipped it up, and left only a little opening for air to get through.

He went back into his room and looked around. He didn't leave much of a mess. All of his clothes were packed away in the duffle bag, along with his laptop and a few books he had bought. Other than that, everything else was relatively clean; messy bed, trash here or there, some dishes in the sink.

Garret came back to the living room, picking up his duffle bag and grabbing the rollaway suitcase by the extended handle. He went out the door, careful of the steps, and didn't bother to lock it. It was of no use to him anymore. He's going to spend the rest of his time with Stiles.

A happy, excited feeling bubbled up in his chest. He looked down at the suitcase and smiled. It was time to go home. Months of going through with this carefully, it was finally time.

Garret went down to his truck, putting the duffle bag in the seat and then carefully lifted the other and set it on the floor. If he had set it on the seat, it would've slid off if he hit the break and Stiles would've gotten hurt.

Garret hopped inside his truck, shoving the keys in the ignition and drove on out, heading home.

It was a long ride. He wasn't making any stops at all. He had filled up his tank and an extra tank of gas in the trunk just in case.

This was worth it.

Garret smiled upon the thought of going back to _their_ home.

"Isn't this great hermit Gretta's summer cottage?" Scott asked as he got out of the car and rounded up with the others.

"Was." Isaac said. They looked at him. "Worked in a cemetery? I dug her grave. She passed away a year ago."

"Is he here?" Allison asked. She sees Scott shake his head.

"I don't hear any heartbeats besides ours." Scott told her.

"I smell him." Boyd said. He looked up at the sky, seeing the dark and gloomy clouds floating in. "We need to move it before the oncoming rain washes Stiles scent away."

"Boyd, Erica, Isaac, Peter, you're with me." Derek said. "Scott, Allison, Lydia, Jackson and Danny, look in the house." hearing their Alpha's order, they split off. They could smell Stiles' scent everywhere, erratic. They smelled lingering fear and desperation.

Desperation from the hope that one of them would pick up their phones, but they didn't.

Derek was way beyond upset. With Stiles for being such an idiot and not telling anyone, but mostly at himself for not being able to notice anything at all. He was so blinded by the fact that he thought Stiles slept with Garret, had thought that Stiles didn't see him the way Derek saw Stiles.

He was so angry and hurt that he didn't want to hear anything the boy had to say. He was sure that Stiles was trying to tell him the truth probably.

Derek was happy with Stiles. Not _insanely_ happy, but calm. Someone he could finally relax with and not have the feeling that someone is going to attack him. He felt safe. It was nice.

Derek hadn't given the boy a chance to say anything.

This was—

"—not your fault." Derek turned to see Peter standing there. "Don't try and make this a pity fest for you, Derek. I can see it in your eyes already and you're blaming yourself for all of this." Peter said.

Derek didn't say anything. He clenched his hands together and tried ignoring him. He was right though about one thing. He can't do the whole blaming thing right now.

Right now, Stiles needed him.

Derek huffed and walked, following Stiles' erratic scent, sensing the lingering fear everywhere and Derek tried so hard to keep his composure at the moment.

"I found his cell phone!" Derek heard Erica shout out. He followed Erica's scent and found her, along with Boyd coming into view. Peter followed right behind Derek. Derek and the three heard an engine coming toward them, something sounding a lot like a dirt bike. The turned and saw someone zoomed past a tree, stopping right near them.

"Isaac where did you get that?" Derek asked. Isaac turned the thing off.

"Found it ditched under a bush."

"You mean tripped." Boyd said nonchalantly.

"Whatever. It had Garret's scent all over it. I tripped over the green tires." Isaac mumbled.

"Why would he need it?" Erica asked.

"To catch a prey faster." Boyd said, looking at the bike. "It would've caught Stiles off guard."

"Well, we aren't going to find anything else out here." Peter sighed out. He bent over and picked something up, shoving it into his pocket.

"Peter's right. His scent ends here. Let's head back." Derek said. "Don't think I didn't see that, Peter." Derek said.

"Beat you guys there." Isaac grinned, starting up the dirt bike and racing off. Erica and Boyd grinned, sensing a race.

Scott and the others came into the cottage, looking around the place. Aside from the scattered papers and books, everything else was relatively normal.

Jackson went further into the back, Scott going to the kitchen area. Lydia looked around the living area along with Danny.

"Stiles fought back." Allison said going over to the scattered things on the floor. She spotted another envelope and grabbed it. She took out a piece of paper. "Hm." she hummed.

"What is it?" Danny asked upon hearing her hum.

"It's another note." Allison flipped it and read the note. "A creepy note."

"Stiles probably snooped through his stuff and found it." Lydia said. "Anything else?" she asked.

Allison shook her head. The only thing she found was the envelope. Everything else was just school papers and homework and such.

Danny didn't find anything weird. He checked under the couch and in between the cushions. Nothing out of the ordinary other than the fact that it was really clean, besides the obvious scattered paper where Allison stood.

Scott came out of the kitchen…sandwich in hand. Allison, Lydia and Danny gave him a _'judging you'_ look. Scott paused, mid chew.

"Sorry." he said through the contents of food in his mouth. "I honestly can't think when I'm hungry."

"Did you find anything other than food, Scott?" Allison sighed. She saw him shake his head.

"I couldn't pick up on anything, nothing is off." Scott said.

From the side, they heard something being knocked down. They turned to see Lydia scrimmaging through the trash bin and then saw a concerned expression. She picked something up and they recognized that is was a syringe.

"Should I be concerned that I found this and not you? The one with werewolf senses?" she pursed her lips.

"A needle…he drugged Stiles then."

"Stiles would be knocked out completely."

"Wait…wait a minute." Scott said. "Let me see that." Scott went forward and attempted to grab it, only for Lydia to yank it away.

"And why should I?"

"Lydia." Allison said with an expression that said _'really? Now?'_

Lydia rolled her eyes and handed it to him.

Scott looked at the syringe. "These are the type of needles my mom uses." he said.

"He could just be a druggie?" Allison said. Scott shook his head.

"I don't smell any drugs, besides; it's not the right one. Those types would be insulin syringes, smaller and thinner. This right here is the type they have at hospitals, a bit larger." Scott said as he fished for his phone that was in his pocket. He pulled it out, calling his mom.

"What the hell—" Lydia said at first, but Scott cut her off when his mom picked up.

"Scott?" his mom said. "What's wrong?"

"Hey Mom, nothing's wrong at all. Um, I was wondering if this guy, Garret, ever came into the hospital at all recently?"

"Oh, Garret?" her voice seemed fond. "Yes…and I'm surprised at you for not being here as well." Scott's face pinched.

"Surprised? Why?" he heard her sigh.

"Honey, Stiles was in hospitalized for a few days."

"What?! When—why?"

"Only for about three days, he had a really bad fever."

"He was sick?!" Scott said.

"Scott…you're supposed to be his best friend and look out for him." she said. "Garret was the one that rode in the ambulance and stayed until Stiles woke up. He was the only one that visited, other than his father of course. Look, I need to get back. We need to talk later about this." Melissa said and hung up. Scott shoved his phone back into his pocket and cursed.

"Scott?" Danny said. "What happened?"

"My mom told me that he was there because he was visiting Stiles when he was hospitalized." Scott said. "Because he had a high fever…"

"Because Jackson and the whole tray dumping incident…" Danny groaned. "I'm going to have to owe him big time."

"I should've known…he was on a crutch, but I ignored it. I figured it was just his ankle…I didn't bother asking him because I was sort of…mad and depressed at the things we argued about." he said guiltily. "I couldn't sense any pain at all from him though."

"You couldn't sense anything at all." Lydia reminded him.

"Stupid Pixies." Scott muttered. "Where's Jackson?"

"Hm…Jackson?" Lydia called walked into the hall.

"In here!" he hollered. The four looked at each other and shrugged, heading down to the room Jackson was in. They headed down the hall, the werewolves noticing a strong scent of Garret's from a particular room, his bedroom to be exact.

Jackson wasn't in it though. He was in the room at the end of the hall, door cracked open. Lydia went through first, submerged in darkness.

"Where are the lights—Jackson! Are you down here?" she asked. She looked down and noticed a red light, Jackson's figure standing there looking through photos. "What are you doing down here?"

"His dark room to develop photos." Danny said. He went around Lydia and went down the stairs, heading towards Jackson. The photos were probably the ones Garret didn't favor. Most of the pictures were ruined by a large glare, courtesy of the werewolves. The others came down to look at the scattered piles of photographs lying around.

"This is just too much." Allison said as she looked through them.

Scott looked around the room, his eyes looking through the darkness as he went further into the basement. Something hit him in the face, something small. He grabbed it. Oh, it was a light switch. Scott pulled at it and the light flickered on. His eyes widened at what he saw.

"Oh…dude." Scott gasped. He looked at the ground, buckets of paint and brushes littered the side. "Guys, this person has gone mental." He stared at the painting on the wall.

Allison turned and a look of disbelief crossed her expression. "Oh my god."

They were staring at a mural, painted by Garret himself. There was a small ladder he used to reach the high areas. The painting took up the entire wall.

The mural was of Garret and Stiles, lying on what seemed to be a couch. They laid together intimately.

Naked.

It was getting rather hard to breathe for Scott. The shocking thing was the fact that Garret had gotten every single of Stiles' moles _correct_. It was entirely too creepy, something Scott didn't want to ever see.

This just showed how obsessed this guy was with Stiles.

Scott noticed a sketch book near the small stand with paint brushes. He went over and sighed, opening it and flipping through each _detailed_ drawing of Garret and Stiles together, doing domestic things, a few a bit too intimate for anyone's liking.

Just flipping through them was too overwhelming. Scott set the book down, an Ill feeling settling at the pit of his stomach.

They gathered up in the living room, along with Derek and the others. It began to rain, Stiles' scent washing away. They couldn't track down the scent to the source anyways. They knew that Garret and Stiles had left in the large truck he had. The werewolves could smell the faint smell of gasoline around when they had approached the house.

Derek had found them staring at the mural in disbelief. A look of disgust and anger formed on his face as he saw what they were staring at. He wanted to lash out and cover the entire mural, burn it, throw that bastard's blood all over as soon as he found him.

Boyd held him back and said, "Derek, we can't find him." Derek turned and glared at him.

"And why the hell not?" he saw Boyd sigh.

"What else can we do? The rain washed away any possible chance of trying to find him by scent. We obviously can't trace his phone since its right here. How are we going to be able to find him?"

"Well…we can try tracking Garret's phone." Danny said. "If he's still carrying it on him, I can track it down by the GPS in his phone…"

Derek nodded. He glanced at Scott, who wasn't paying attention at all. He was staring at the ground, thinking most likely.

"Scott?" Derek called out to him. The boy glanced up at him.

"Do you think that…Garret took Stiles back home with him? You know, where he lived before he came down here?" Scott said slowly.

"What are you saying McCall? The creepy asshole decided to take him home to play house?" Jackson said.

"It would explain the creep factor of all the drawings he did of him and Stiles." Erica reminded them. Some of the pack nodded.

"Don't remind me." Derek muttered. He clenched his fists together.

"Scott is probably right about this." Peter said. "If it was a simple kidnapping, chloroform would be enough." Peter took out a while cloth and waved it in front of everyone. "Since he used a syringe here that Lydia had found, it meant that he wanted Stiles to be completely out for a long time."

"Guys, I wasn't finished." Danny said. The turned to look at him. "I said I can track down the GPS chip in his phone, _if_ he has it on him, but I can only find it by accessing it through a certain computer."

"Like the phone company's computers? Their system?" Isaac asked him.

"That, but there's another way." He paused.

"The Police's system." Lydia said. Danny nodded.

"We're going to have to—"

"No." Derek cut him off. "We're not telling him."

"Look, Derek, we have no choice. There's no other way into there. The only one that knows all the codes is Stiles." Danny said. "We need to tell him so he can get in. We can't break into the police station; we'll be in serious trouble."

"Derek." Boyd said. "We need to tell him."

The pack finally manage to convince Derek to tell Stiles' father. Derek, Scott and Danny were inside the Stilinski home. Jackson and Erica headed to the school in search for the papers they got when transfer student arrive. Information of where his last school was, hometown, etc.

The rest were outside the Stilinski home, waiting.

"You expect me to believe the shit you're telling me?" John said, eyebrows pitching up.

"You say that as if you do believe us, sir." Danny said. Scott protracted his claws, showing them to the sheriff, who stared at him.

Just staring.

"Aw, damn." John muttered. He ran a hand through his hair, rubbing the back of his neck as he sighed once more and stared again.

"You're taking this awfully well." Derek said.

"Yeah, It would explain everything that's been going on in this town, honestly." he sighed. "Why are you just telling me now?" he asked. His eyebrows furrowed together. Realization dawned on his face. He sat straight up. "Where the hell is my son?" he said angrily. "What happened to my—"

"Stiles was kidnapped." Scott said hurryingly, stopping the man from pulling out his gun.

"WHAT?!" John yelled. He abruptly got up, knocking his chair back in the process. "And why in the hell are you telling me this _now?"_ he said as he paced back and forth. It made Scott nervous. "Who the _hell—"_

"It was a Garret." Scott looked up to the Sheriff.

"Gar—Stiles' new friend?" he said in disbelief. "Why the hell would he—"

"Garret had been stalking Stiles for god knows how long." Derek said. "Stiles never told us anything."

"_What?"_

Danny sighed and handed him the photo packet he had tucked under his arm. John took it and opened them, pulling out the contents. He flipped through each photo, reading each note in total disgust. Anger boiled in him slowly as he went from one photo to another.

"How long had he been missing?" he asked.

"Only since this morning. We tracked his scent at Garret's house on the other side of the town." Derek said.

"Christ, I didn't even notice he left. His crutch is still here." John points to the crutch lying on the wall in the living room. "Why on earth would he be going to Garret's house for?" he asked.

"I don't know. All I want to do now is find Stiles_"_

_"_We need to activate the GPS chip on Garret's phone, _if_ it's with him."

"You need me to go track the phone down. Find the phone—"

"—and we find Garret." Scott finished. "Find him, we find Stiles."

"Have you checked the school systems?" John said. "They have new students fill out forms of prior schools."

"Already on it. Jackson and Erica are doing that now. The rest of us are here." Derek said.

"Rest of us?" John eyed him. "How many are there of you?"

"My pack has seven werewolves and four humans…including Stiles." Derek said.

"You're going to explain _everything_ as soon as this is over." John said to the Alpha. Derek nodded.

The door opened, Lydia coming through with a smile on her face.

"They got the address." she smirked. "Are we ready to go?"

John looked at her and nodded. They headed towards the door. John stopped momentarily and faced the group of kids.

"You didn't tell anyone else of this, did you? Didn't call 9-1-1?" he looked at them. The pack wore guilty faces.

"No." Isaac said as he shook his head. John nodded.

"Good."

"I should be concerned that he can do this _just_ from a USB drive." John muttered. He watched as the screen moved by itself, clicking and typing codes. "He's hacking into my system." he sighed.

The screen switched to another small screen, where he watched Danny, who at the moment was typing away furiously at his small laptop.

That was especially made for hacking.

He should keep an eye on the boy and update his system.

Danny was across the street, parked on the side of the road near the abandoned alleyway. They were in Allison's father's SUV, he should be concerned that she had made an 'innocent' face and said she 'borrowed' it.

He should talk to her too.

In fact, he should really talk to every one of these kids.

And question himself for letting this happen.

He was not being a very good model sheriff.

John saw Stiles' number being typed in, a moment for it to process, then a history of Stiles' phone calls and text messages came up as well.

Should he be concerned that most of the text messages he sent was to Derek Hale? Yea, that should be concerning.

He should talk to both of them about it.

Jesus was there a lot of talking that needed to be done.

He saw Danny click on Garret's number, then a moment for the computer to process and another screen popped up, showing a number along with more information.

Another small screen popped up and began typing out a message.

_"You can unplug the USB drive and head back to the car now. I can take it from here."_

Creepy.

John sighs, judging himself and then unplugged the thing. He stuck it in his pocket and stood up, heading for the door and walked out of his office. He waves at the deputy at the front table and leaves.

John sits in the passenger seat while Allison drives the car. Danny sat next to Derek and Lydia, who argues to sit in a seat and not in the back; the others were in the large portion of the trunk.

"Garret's phone company is Sprint." Danny said. "The one he frequently pays his bills is online, though the last place he paid a bill in hand was in…Hume?" Danny typed some more and pulled up more information. "Looks like that was where he resided in before he came to Beacon Hills."

"Hume…that's four hours away." Scott said from the back as he pulled up a map from his phone.

Erica checked the time. It was about twelve. "Stiles went missing around nine, god has he ever woken up that early?" she questioned herself. "It's twelve now."

"Allison, we need to go now. He should almost be there by now." Allison nodded and took off, heading toward the highway.

"Assuming he actually did go back there." Jackson said. Everyone glared at him. "Just saying! Seriously, he could've made a pit stop or have gone somewhere else."

"Jackson, you aren't helping."

Derek shook his head. "I smelled fresh gasoline. It wasn't in the tank, so he could've had extra in the car for back up."

"Your senses are back already?" Scott groaned.

"I can't even sense anything at all yet." Boyd grumbled.

"Because he's the alpha, that's why." Jackson muttered. He moaned. "Oh god, Stilinski is rubbing off on us."

"Alpha?" The sheriff asked." Derek spoke up.

"Werewolves always have a pack, a family in other terms. They can be categorized into three different groups. Omega would be the lowest, they roam by themselves, packless. Betas would be the ones within a pack, born or bitten. Alphas are the leaders. The strongest of the pack."

"Alright…so which ones are bitten and born?" John asked.

"I'm a born werewolf, along with my uncle Peter and Jackson. The others, excluding Lydia, Allison, Danny and Stiles, were bitten."

"You _bit_ teenagers?"

"Only ones that were willing. I didn't just go around and bit random teenagers, sir."

"So you're saying you stalked them?"

Derek didn't say anything. "If you put it in that way, I did." he sighed. "I only bit the ones that I chose that were worthy of the bite."

John scoffed. "You're saying as if the bite is a good thing then?"

"The bite…it's a gift."

John sighed, rather harshly. "Since this is going to be a very long road trip, everyone had better explain what the hell had been going on."

Derek explained what had actually happened to his family. Allison gripped the steering wheel, a sorrow look in her eyes that Scott saw through the rearview mirror. Scott then explained how he had gotten the bite.

Each of the pack took turns, explaining from their point of view.

"So." John let out. "What other things are real other than leprechauns?"

"We recently had a horrible run in with pixies." Lydia said. "Well by we, I meant them." she pointed to the werewolves."

"What happened?"

"The pixies threw this weird dust of theirs at us. It didn't have much effect on the humans, but on us it messed with our senses. The fairies, after helping us get rid of them that is, explained that we'll lose our senses for a while. The day after, it was just like being human. No heightened smell, hearing, etc." Isaac said.

"It keeps fluctuating from time to time though." Erica said. "It pisses me off. Like one minute nothing and then the next, it just pops in your face."

"And this was because Stiles wasn't there to help when you needed him." John said.

"It got really messy and ugly." Danny muttered.

"And what else can you sense with it?" John wondered.

"We can hear heartbeats, people's scents, we can see much better in the dark." Scott listed off. "We can smell sickness too…"

John sighed. "It's not _completely _your fault."

Jackson had somewhat slumped down a bit. Since hearing that he actually sent Stiles to the hospital, he felt guilty.

He was angry for what he had thought the kid done to Danny. He saw how hurt Danny had been.

"You're right, it was Jackson's fault." Erica said. Jackson snarled at Erica, who snarled right back at him. The pack started pulling at one another, and then argued in the back. Peter sat there and ignored everyone.

"Does this happen often?" John asked.

"It does." Peter chuckled. "It's entertaining."

"It gets annoying." Lydia sighed."

The arguing didn't stop, and then one another started growling. Lydia just shook her head.

"Everyone shut up!" Allison shouted, but due to the amount of shouting and arguing and growling and Derek not bothering to say anything.

"Derek, aren't you, I don't know, supposed to do something back there?" John asked. He questioned himself for not saying anything to the kids either.

"Do you want to break up children fights every single time?" Derek rubbed his forehead. "I'd rather let them fight it out and have them deal with it themselves. It honestly gets tiring after the hundredth time."

"Who usually breaks them up if you don't?" Do they just…go on like this?"

"…Stiles is usually the one that broke them up." Derek said as he looked down.

"Ah." was all that John had said.

Allison on the other hand had gripped the steering wheel even harder. Derek raised a concerned eyebrow at this.

It was only until the sound of ripping fabric that made her snap. She swerved onto the side of the road and slammed on the breaks, causing everyone to lurch forward. Everyone had worn seatbelts, except for the occupants in the trunk.

Allison pulled out a cross bow from god knows where, arrow already set, and pointed it at the wolves in the back.

"I'm not going to turn this car around but I swear to _god_ that I will shoot you all if you don't sit down and shut the hell up _now._ Yelling and getting agitated will get us _nowhere._" she glared at them. Scott slumped down, avoiding Allison's glare.

She definitely had her mother's eyes. Everyone had closed their mouths and sat back down. Allison sighed and went back on the road, driving a little faster.

"I think I broke my nose." Isaac mumbled. Erica looked at him and just patted his head. He winced as it was healing.

They had to stop to refuel the car. The pack took a step outside, stretching out their aching limbs. That was when Allison's father decided to call and practically shouted at her on the whereabouts of his car. Allison only told him that they needed it for an emergency and hung up.

During the trip, in which Allison tried and get there without breaking the speed limit, John had asked more questions and Derek or someone else answered them.

It kept Derek on edge with how the sheriff was holding up on the news. It was as if he had heard this every day and didn't even raise a tone that would have made them sound crazy. He would nod or grunt and go on with the next question.

Derek was honestly waiting for a bullet in himself by now. How could a man just take this sudden new knowledge so easily?

Well, that would explain how Stiles seemed completely alright with the news as well when he first found out. Derek had heard it from Scott's retelling and Scott had said that Stiles was the one who suggested to Scott at the time that he was a werewolf.

The Stilinski's were really weird men.

Very.

They made it to Hume in about three hours. The sheriff didn't bat a single eye when Allison, when she had the chance, sped over a hundred miles per hour and practically stayed at that, probably going over a tad bit more, for about thirty minutes.

Allison was on edge a bit too. The sheriff seemed real calm, too calm in a situation such as this. She had imagined he would go ballistic and refused to let them handle it, having the police and get to it right away.

He also seemed rather…_glad_ when Isaac said they didn't call 9-1-1. He was relieved and it bothered her a bit. She had a feeling that since it was Stiles.

_Stiles_.

His only child left, only remembrance of his wife, and she had a gut feeling that he wasn't going to let anything in his way on getting his son back. The sheriff knew the police wouldn't let him find his son, claiming that it was too personal and would tell him to let them handle it.

None of the pack didn't want to be left behind, sure ten people against one person, but this was Stiles. _Stiles._

If anything happened to him during the time of their search for him, it would fall on them. The sheriff, although not admitting it, blamed them. He also blamed himself, that she knew. Parent's always blamed themselves for whatever the actions their kids made.

Hume was _surrounded_ by the woodland. A great view of the mountains and large amounts of lodges were around the area.

Sure enough the pack felt jittery, new territory in all. They were surprised and glad that this area wasn't claimed by any other packs, though Derek said that a place, once discovered, would be an ideal area for a large pack to stay hidden quietly.

Allison parked the SUV nearby the large lake. There was a small docking area, and numerous amounts of small boats for the people to use.

This was a nice and quiet area…peaceful. The grass was unbelievably green, trees tower over them.

"Why aren't we taking the car to his house?" Lydia complained as she grabbed Jackson's hand and hopped off the car.

"Because the roads are getting too narrow for a SUV to drive on. It's better to do it on foot from here on out. Most of you were getting restless back there anyways." Derek huffed out. He rolled his eyes as Lydia complained.

"Allison, I'm sure you have some extra boots in there somewhere?" Lydia asked. "These heels are not made for hiking." Allison nodded and led her to the trunk, tugging out a hidden compartment on the side and pulled out a pair of boots.

"There is no way that this place has a school." Erica said as she looked around.

"Fresno does. It's probably no more than two hours away." Scott said as he scrolled through the map on his phone.

Allison shook her head "Then why not live there? Why live all the way out here?"

Scott shrugged. He turned to Danny. "So we have his address?"

"Yea and I'm not wasting battery using my navigation. It's better to ask one of these people that live here."

"Let's get a move on, the sooner the better." John sighed out.

He was glad he didn't wear his uniform today, or else that would attract attention, and attention is what he _doesn't_ want at the moment. The flannel shirt and the grey Henley underneath seemed good enough. Everyone else seemed to be wearing similar clothing. That or shorts and a tank top.

John looked at the kids. They stuck out too much. The only one that seemed to almost fit was Danny and Scott. Everyone else had a leather jacket that absolutely did not blend in so well.

"You know." John started. "I don't want to attract any attention." he said as he looked at the teens.

"What do you mean?" Derek asked the man.

"What I mean is for you guys to lose the leather. People are going to stare at you guys suspiciously and think you're a gang." John stuck a thumb and pointed it at the car. "Lose. The. Leather."

Derek glared down at the man as the others shuffled and shrugged their jackets off and tossed them in the back. "It's not so suspicious if only one person is wearing it." Derek's face was a bit smug. He walked off. "Let's go."

They went around and asked people where this address was, or asked if they knew a person named Garret that used to live around here. People would shake their heads and say no.

"Why would you want to approach such a wicked man?" an old lady replied to Jackson.

"Wicked?" Jackson said with an eyebrow cocking up.

"That man is wicked." she told him. "I can feel it in my bones and my bones never _lie_ about anything." she pointed at him. "It's best to leave him be."

"I need to find him lady, he took something of ours." Jackson crossed his arms. "Wicked or not, I don't care."

The lady looked at him. "What _exactly_ did he take?" she huffed through her nose. "That man barely comes out of his own home. He doesn't approach anyone or talk to anyone at all. He'll take off every once in a while to the city. It's hard to believe such a man would do a thing unless it was something that caught his attention and let me tell you." she stepped closer and pointed at him again. "You do not want his eyes to lay upon you, or anything of yours. Once it catches his eyes, you will never see it again." she turned around and walked off. "Leave him be!"

Jackson clenched his fist. He went and held the old woman still by her shoulder. "Look lady, I don't care who this person is. My business is my business. Now I know that you know where he lives."

"Jackson!" Allison jogged to him. Jackson shrugged her off. "Jackson that's enough!"

"Don't tell me I didn't warn you." she spat out. "He lives on Ponderosa Avenue, just beside the round blue building. His home should be on the lower level so watch your step _and_ your back." she glanced at Allison and at Jackson and walked off, muttering to herself.

Jackson looked at Allison. "It's always the weird ones that know everything." he said to her.

Allison sighed. "C'mon, we need to meet up with the others."

The pack gathered up.

"Almost everyone I asked didn't know who I was talking about." Lydia crossed her arms. "Are you sure we have the right place?" she looked at Danny.

"Yes I'm sure." he threw her an annoyed look.

"I didn't get anything. Some almost seemed confused when I asked them." Scott said.

"Like a 'why are you looking for that person' look?" Isaac said.

"At least you got a reaction." Erica growled.

"I'm going with the lovely lady here. Are we all sure we have the right area?" Peter sighed.

"Oh, we do alright." John said as he approached the pack. "Got an address." he held up a lime green post it note.

"How did you get an address?" Boyd asked.

John just sets his hands on both sides of his hips and gave the boy a look.

"Where's Jackson?" Lydia asked as she looked around.

"He's coming from the docks over there." Isaac nodded his head in the direction. Jackson and Allison approached the pack.

Jackson's mood kept plummeting.

"What you find out?" Derek asked.

"Creepy old people always know more than everyone else. This creepy old lady said that he was 'wicked'," Jackson air quoted, "and for us not to go near him. She said he was practically anti-social. Keeps in his house all the time and only goes out to the city every now and then." he crossed his arms, tucking his hands into the pit of his arms. "She also said that if something catches his eye, it's gone."

"Ponderosa Avenue is where he lives. Just beside the round blue building." Allison said as she pulled her phone out. She walked over to the sheriff. John showed her the address, which was correct since it was on Ponderosa Avenue. "Got it." she pointed North West. "That way…._way_ that way."

"Scott and Allison, lead the way." Derek said. "Humans will ride with the werewolves. So everyone, _grab a partner._" he looked at John. "Sheriff, you're with me."

Erica already hopped on Boyd's back, who looked at her questioningly. "What? He said grab a partner." she said. She let out a rather harsh puff of breath. "Just go."

Danny rode on Isaac's back as Jackson carried Lydia in his arms (who demanded to be carried that way.) and Scott had Allison on his back, who had the directions in hand.

"Oh darn, I don't have a partner." Peter sighed. "Looks like I'm on my own."

"And how exactly are we going to get there?" John asked. He didn't move an inch.

Derek smirked. "We run."

About ten minutes of nonstop running, they finally made it to their destination. The house was on the lower level, in which Scott found out the hard way when he lost his footing and slid down. Allison reacted quickly and flipped off Scott's back before she was hurt in the process.

John almost pulled his gun out before Derek stopped him.

"Wait." he cocked his head to the side. He definitely heard a heartbeat. Only one though.

"There's only one heartbeat." Isaac announced.

"Is it—" John asked, though Peter cut him off.

"Probably..." Peter said slowly.

"Well? Can't we just bust in there and look?" Erica started to pop her neck.

"And bring attention to ourselves, yea that's a no." Lydia replied to the girl.

"Wha—I can _smell_ him in there. There's a heartbeat, that door is going down." Erica stepped forward, but Boyd held her back. Erica was about to shout until an audible click came from the house. They all turned to see Allison picking the lock, Scott standing behind her.

Allison turned around. "You guys coming? Standing around attracts attention too you know." she stepped inside.

The pack shuffled inside.

"Stiles?" Scott called out.

"Son?" John called out as well.

"Up ahead." Scott said signaling down the hall. Derek went first, going through the hall. The house had about three rooms all together.

Derek opened the door the heart beat came from, only to see nothing. It was a normal bedroom, full sized bed. Derek's face scrunched up in confusion. Where the hell was the heartbeat coming from?

"I can still hear it." Erica said.

Derek turned his head, focusing on where it could emit from. Derek, getting impatient, growled and flipped the entire bed over, causing it to knock several things over and land in the corner. He looked around and spotted the closet. He growled and stepped forward, yanking the door out of the wall. Scott ducked just in time before it collided with his head.

Derek had pulled everything out of the closet, cleaning it out until nothing was left.

Nothing else, but he can still hear the fucking heartbeat.

_It was still there, beating._

Where was Stiles?

Where is he?

He's here!

_He's fucking here._

He can hear the heartbeat, he can _smell_ his scent. The scent that became normal to him. The scent that he loved inhaling when it's near.

_The scent of his mate._

Derek then punched a hole through the wall, and another, and another until most of his pack pulled him back, trying to calm him down.

"Please tell me I'm not losing my mind." Derek growled out. He tried _so hard_ the entire trip here to be calm. "I can hear him." he clenched his fists hard, letting the blood drip out.

"I'm sure during your freak out a minute ago made it so you couldn't hear what I just heard." Lydia said as she stared at the mess in the closet.

"What the _hell_ are you talking about?" Derek glared at her.

"Let me demonstrate." she walked over and picked up a wooden leg from a broken chair. She stood at the closet and held up a finger to her mouth. She tapped the wooden leg down first on the wooden floor outside of the closet, and then repeated again inside the closet.

.

**_*Thunk* * thunk* * thunk*_**

**_._**

_._

_*Thunk* * thunk* * thunk*_

"There's nothing _in_ the closet, but what about underneath?" she asked them.

Derek wasted no time and went over to the closet. He bent down and with a fist in the air, brought it down with all his strength.

"Ahem." Lydia cleared her voice. Derek looked up, red eyes blaring. She merely pointed at the loose wooden tile that wedged up when Derek had smashed a hole in the floor. He rolled his eyes and pulled the wooden plank out of the ground. He tossed it to the side.

Scott went over along with Boyd and started pulling the wooden tiles out from the closet area until there was nothing left but a pitch dark hole.

_And stairs._

The heartbeat was stronger.

"This guy is crazy." Jackson muttered under his breath.

Lydia, Allison and Danny pulled out their phones and turned their flash on. They all headed down the stairs, each taking a careful step.

It didn't take very long for them to get to the bottom. They reached to a hole in the wall.

"Isn't this a basement?" Erica said.

"If it were, wouldn't there be a door to the basement?" Jackson sneered at her.

"Not unless he closed it off so it would be harder to find." Scott said from the front.

"Harder to find _and_ harder to get out."Peter added.

"Where's the light switch? I don't want my phone dying out." Danny complained.

"Uh…oh, right here." Scott tugged the chain and the lights switched on.

As the lights flickered on, they saw about the same set up as the was in the other basement back in beacon hills.

Though, even _more_ photos were here. Some were still soaking in some chemicals, others were hung up.

There was a desktop computer in the corner of the room, which Danny gladly went over and turned it on.

"Seriously Danny?" Jackson said.

"Hey, I'm trying to find other things that would help us." Danny hunched over the screen.

"The walls look weird." Isaac commented.

"_Everything _looks weird in here." Lydia said to him.

"No…" he shook his head. "The walls look off." Isaac stared and saw his reflection. "Glass?"

"Nope." Danny said. He typed some things into the keyboard. "_Monitors_." The entire wall flickered on and showed a lovely view of the ever so popular, Stilinski home.

"What the hell?" John said. "That asshole has cameras inside my own home?" he seethed.

"This guy has lost it." Boyd said.

"This guy is _dead_." John said.

Danny began clicking on the computer, switching from the current empty, unoccupied view of the home to previous recordings. Each screen showed a different day, a different week, a different month.

They saw Stiles and the sheriff in and out, standing still every now and then, talking, every day normal things.

It progressed to night, Stiles on his laptop with his leg bouncing up and down. Stiles shut his laptop and got up, grabbing a towel.

"That bastard." John said under his breath.

The screen switched to the bathroom, where Stiles stripped his shirt off.

"Shut the damn thing off!" John ordered Danny.

Danny flinched and turned the screen off, then turned the computer off.

They were silent for a moment till they directed their attention to Derek.

Oh.

The heartbeat.

"Derek?" Boyd asked with caution. He saw the alpha pace back and forth, as if prowling.

"It's here, _he's in here."_ Derek growled.

"It's another wall, Derek."

"And the floor was _just_ a floor." Lydia said. She looked at the wall and tipped her head to the side. "You're letting your emotions get the best of you, Derek." she said as she walked over to the photos covering the corkboard.

"Jackson." she called him over. He sighed and went over, furrowing his eyebrows as he heard the heartbeat even stronger.

"He is in here." he said.

"Pull at it." she said. He gave her a suspicious look, but complied anyways. He grabbed the edge and pulled at it, hearing a creak.

"No way." Scott said. "_Another door?_" he looked at her. "How?"

"The door hinges?" she said with a very obvious tone in her voice. She pointed to the other side and there it was. Jackson pulled it off the wall and set it to the side.

Derek didn't hesitate and shoved the door down with his foot.

The smell was in here, _stronger_ than ever. A heartbeat. A slow, steady one. The room was average sized, a bed was in the corner with dirty white sheets.

There was someone under those sheets. Derek sees plaid, brown hair, and the scents.

The scents.

The _scents._

_"_Stiles…?" Derek said cautiously. From behind, John went forward, despite Scott's protest.

"Son?" he said softly, as if afraid to startle him. John's heart was beating fast. John walked up slowly and noticed chains from under the sheets that were hooked up to the bed railings.

"Derek—the chains." Derek nodded and went to break them off.

"Something isn't right…" Peter whispered.

"What do you mean?" Scott asked the man.

"Why take all the effort in kidnapping him and leaving him here, then disappearing without a single trace?" the man said. "If he was that _obsessed_, he wouldn't just toss him in here."

"What are you saying…?"

"If he were that hell bent on turning his little fantasy into reality, he wouldn't make a mistake such as this."

"…or if he was just too obsessed that his fantasy…turned into madness." Derek said lowly. They turned and saw Derek. He was staring down at the person with the sheets tugged down.

"It's not him."

"What? No." Scott walked over. "That can't be—" he looked down to the boy in the bed.

It wasn't Stiles.

It was a boy who looked like him; his blonde roots grew out of his obvious brown dyed hair. He had Stiles clothes on. Red plaid shirt, black shirt underneath along with Stiles pair of boxers.

Garret had most likely stolen them from the dirty waste basket. It made sense at how they could smell Stiles here.

The boy had a gag on him and a blindfold set over his eyes.

"He couldn't wait any longer." Peter said. "So he decided to have a replacement until he could get his hands on the real one."

The boy started to move and froze. In one swift motion, he snapped his body up and tried to wedge himself into the corner, trying to scramble away from the new people.

"No...No, no, no, no, _please_ no." he begged.

"Hey, hey, everything is alright. Look." John said softly. He reached into his back pocket, at which the boy whole bodily flinched away when he saw the man pull something out. The man flashed a sheriff badge. "I'm the sheriff of Beacon Hills. You're safe now. Nobody's going to hurt you anymore."

The boy looked at everyone else, mostly keeping his eye on the other man looming over him.

"He won't hurt you. They're the search party."

"W-where am I?" his voice trembled.

"You're in Hume, California." John said. "What's the last thing you remember before being in here?"

"I-I was at a graduation party for my sister. I left in my car to grab something at the gas station and about to head back but my tire had a flat. A huge black truck came and that guy said he'd help me He said he had an extra tire about my size and said to check it out if it's the right one. He opened his truck and I saw the tire. I reached in for it and…that was it."

John stayed silent.

"_When _was that, can you tell me?"

"M-may 12, 2013."

"Jesus Christ." he whispered. "Has he kept you chained up the entire time?" the boy nodded. "What happened when you first saw him?"

"I-I woke up and my head hurt a lot. I was tied up and had my head hanging over the edge of a bathtub. He cut my hair off and dyed it. He kept a blindfold on me most of the time, but when he took it off, he made me wear contacts."

"Let me guess, brownish color?" the boy nodded. "Can you tell me your name, age and where you live?"

"I'm Kyle Henderson, seventeen, Santa Monica, sir."

"What did he tell you?"

The boy swallowed. "He told me that I looked just like him, another boy, he told me I was good enough for now. He had restraints on me so I wouldn't move anywhere but on the bed."

"Did he…" John didn't bother to finish the question. Kyle nodded.

"H-how long have I been gone?" Kyle asked. "What's the date?"

"…It's October 17th." John told him.

Kyle was speechless. "F-five months?" John nodded.

"Come on, let's get you outta here." he rose up and stuck a hand out for the boy to take. He didn't move. "Kyle…are you okay?"

"Uh…I…can't feel my legs much. He kept me tied to the bed the entire time."

"Kyle." The boy turned to the leather clad man. "Can you remember anything else he might have mentioned? Going someplace else…?" Derek asked as calm as he could.

Kyle shook his head. The man's shoulders somewhat slumped.

"Wait…you're the other boy's friends aren't you?" he asked carefully. "The one he mentioned I looked like." The people didn't say anything. "Um…I do remember during…you know…when he got real intense…he blurted on and on about another private cottage he owned. I think it was at Buck Rock…yea, that name is familiar. It was Buck Rock."

"Are you sure?" Derek asked. Kyle nodded.

"It's deep in the forest, but probably the only one out there. Not much owned up there. People didn't want to build extra cottages up there for reasons."

"Reasons?" a girl in the back asked. She had blonde hair.

"The forest is known to be caught on fire multiple times per year. The forest is so dense that it's impossible to keep an eye on what causes it. Pretty sure it's just a bunch of junkies though."

"Alright, thank you." Derek said.

As the pack headed back up, Danny stopped by the computer one last time. Jackson groaned.

"Danny! There is nothing on the computer we need." Jackson complained.

"You're right, nothing on the computer at all." Danny said nonchalantly as he pressed a few keystrokes and the system crashed into a blue screen promptly before it shut off. He took his shirt and wiped the keyboard so his fingerprint wouldn't show up.

"Did you just—"

"Wipe the entire hard drive and everything else? Yea." Danny said, shrugging. "Come on, we need to cover the door back up." Jackson nodded.

"Don't forget the photos." Derek barked at him. He had Kyle on his back. "Erica, Isaac, get rid of the photos. Nothing left, got it?" He headed up the stairs. They protracted their claws as they zereod in on a photo of Garret photoshopped with Stiles.

"Got it." they both said.

* * *

**So, sincerest apologies for the long wait. I hope you don't hate me for putting in another chapter... ; w ;...I just felt like i needed more to it. By the time i was on chapter three i realized i couldn't wrap it up under 10k words, which was my limit for each chapter.**

**Did some research, yes, the place is real, house is real too. (Hume, California)**

**Anyways, summer class in four hours, bye bye!**


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